#anyways this old man needs therapy and this small child needs to hang out with literally anyone other than his 70 year old grandfather

[completelyandtotalyuneventful]

Hey I just started watching Rick and Morty a couple weeks ago and why is the plot of like half of the episodes “Morty has an interest/hobby/person(s) he looks up to/dream or goal for the future. Rick finds out about this and is annoyed or jealous. He then concocts a scheme to crush Morty’s dreams and make his only plan for the future to go on adventures in space with Rick forever.” Something is wrong with this old man.

[cjsinkythoughts]

Rocks, Shoulders, and Ears

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 3501

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Major Angst in this one, guys, Loads of Feels (sorry not sorry), John Walker being a douche (I really don’t like the guy)

A/N: I’m SO SORRY! I promise I was planning on it being shorter, but I went a little overkill with the angst! There’s just so many feelings and not enough space in my heart and soul, so I had to pour them out here! You get to see more of Reader and Sam’s relationship in this one and there’s major Bucky Feels towards the end (in my defense, this is based on the Couples Therapy half of the episode).

I’m really hoping we get to see Bucky go to Louisiana next episode! I’m holding out for it! I have a few ideas that include Sarah, but I need the episode! Ugh! Now we have to wait a whole ‘nother week! I really shouldn’t write three chapters on one episode in one day. I just couldn’t help myself!

Anyways! Please enjoy this part and thank you so much for all your support! Seriously, it’s meant so much to me, especially after the week I’ve had! If you haven’t checked out the previous parts, my FATWS Series Masterlist is HERE, so please go read those first. Like always, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Enjoy, babes!

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

The last thing you remembered was falling asleep in Bucky’s arms after walking a few miles. And a hospital in DC wasn’t exactly what you preferred waking up to, but it’s what happened. Turned out, not only was your shoulder dislocated and your thigh was strained, but you had a mild concussion. Your arm was in a sling and your palm, which you had completely forgotten about after you wrapped it while on Bucky’s back, was wrapped properly. Luckily, your thigh wasn’t too bad, but they wanted to put you on crutches, which you refused immediately.

You had to get out of that building. You had no idea where the guys went, which was weird because you were sure they’d never leave you alone. Especially in a hospital.

You quickly snuck your way through the halls after grabbing your bag which - thank God - was left on the seat besides your bed and changing into an extra pair of clothes. 

You tried calling Bucky’s phone, the one he had specifically for you, which he always always answered. He even made an excuse to go to the bathroom once when you accidentally called in the middle of a therapy session. Nothing. You called the number four times before trying Sam’s phone.

It clicked on the first try.

“Hey. Listen, sorry for leaving-”

“Where the hell are you?”

You heard him sigh. “I was just about to explain, so hang on a second there. You weren’t waking up, probably because that concussion you forgot to mention to us-”

“In my defense, I didn’t know.”

“Sure you didn’t.” You rolled your eyes, throwing your free hand up, exasperated. “Anyways, Bucky wanted me to meet someone, we’ll talk about that when you inevitably get here, put we had a bit of trouble and Bucky was arrested-”

“What?!”

“Chill your pants, Y/L/N. Just listen. We’re in Baltimore. I’ll text you the address. Get here soon and I’ll explain the whole thing. We’ve been here for a couple hours, but there’s people on their way and we’re getting everything situated right now.”

“Okay. Fine. But you’re in trouble.”

“Don’t I know it, babe. Now hurry your cute little ass here. We’ve got stuff to talk about.”

*****************

The ride from DC to Baltimore is usually an hour or so, but you’ve got resources, especially in the nation’s capital, and riding the bike you got, being able to go way over the speed limit? You got there in half the time. Being an Avenger really does have its perks.

The moment you got there, you hopped off the bike, not even bothering to turn it off, and stormed into the precinct. You headed straight over to the desk, but a pair of hands caught you by your uninjured arm before you could make a scene.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Sam spoke softly, squeezing your bicep gently. “He’s okay, alright?”

“Why is he-”

“He missed his court-mandated therapy session.” Sam informed you, pulling you over to where he had been sitting previously. “There was a warrant out for his arrest. They had to bring him in, but it’s fine. His therapist’s been contacted. She should be here any minute to get him out.”

Your head fell back at his words. His therapy. How could you forget? You let Bucky complain to you about it and played along sometimes, but you really did think it was good for him and you tried supporting him. Yet you made him miss it and now he’s in trouble.

“Hey. Y/N. Look at me.” You found Sam’s worried eyes, his hand coming up to hold the side of your neck. “He’s okay. He’ll be out in just a bit. It’s fine.”

“It’s my fault, Sam.”

“No. It’s not. He’s a grown ass man who made the decision to skip.”

You shook your head, holding his wrist for something to anchor you down. “No, Sammy. I brought him along. I should’ve been more responsible-”

“I know we’ve joked around about you being in charge and stuff, but…you know it’s not all on your shoulders, right?” Sam tilted his head slightly, eyebrow pinched in confusion making his eyes narrow. 

You turned your head, not wanting to look at him. You didn’t need another set of deep eyes to fall into. “Sammy…I promised him I’d look after you.”

“I know. And that’s fine. But looking after us - looking after him - doesn’t mean you have to be there to hold his hand and take the fall for him. He’s not a child. Hell, he’s a hundred years old. Tell me you understand that.”

Licking your lips, you closed your eyes and shook your head again. “I-I can’t-”

“Is that why you’re obsessed with finding Wanda?”

You frowned at his question, eyes snapping to his. “I’m worried about her, Sam.”

“I am too, but she can handle herself. And if she doesn’t want to be found, you have to let her be. I know the Avengers were your only family. I know how much Steve meant to you-”

“No.” You pulled away rather harshly, digging your nails into your palms, trying not to cry, ignoring the wound you were irritating. “No, you don’t. How could you understand my feelings for Steve when I don’t understand them myself?”

Sam always had this ability to make anyone feel important, just by looking them in the eye. It was something you always admired about him; the way his smile could light up a room, those warm eyes making everyone’s fears go away. They reminded you of hot chocolate. Something that could soothe your worries, comfort you, warm your very soul from the ice tragedy and heartache tend to big on.

You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry in front of people, but with the way he was looking at you, it was hard to keep the tears from slipping.

“You loved him, Y/N. Why is it so hard for you to see that?”

“I didn’t - I wasn’t in love with him, Sam.” You argued, wiping your cheeks aggressively and turning, crossing your arms defensively.

“What do you call it then?”

It was a rhetorical question, Sam copying your movements and sitting straight to watch for Bucky coming out. A rhetorical question that you didn’t know the answer to. Because you weren’t in love with Steve. No. Maybe you had been, but somewhere along the way he passed your heart to Bucky. So why did it hurt so bad?

You refused to dwell on it anymore, clearing your throat and dabbing at your eyes one more time before changing the topic. “Why are we in Baltimore?”

“Bucky wanted me to meet someone. Isaiah. You know him?” Sam turned back to you, his warm eyes shifting into something else. Suspicion? A bit of anger? Annoyance? You couldn’t tell.

“Isaiah? I don’t think I know any Isaiahs. And definitely not here. Why? Who is he?”

Sam shook his head, eyes darting around the lobby. “We’ll talk about it later.”

You nodded, although now your curiosity had peaked and you wondered who this guy was that made Sam so agitated. While you waited, you felt your eyes drooping and you let your head fall onto Sam’s shoulder, who chuckled.

“You’re still tired? You know you slept for, like, twelve hours, right?”

“I haven’t been sleeping much.”

Sam turned his head to kiss yours. “Y/N, I know you want to care for everyone, but you’ve gotta take care of yourself too.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” And with that, the subject dropped, Sam pulling out his phone while you rested your eyes.

It was another ten minutes or so before Sam’s name was called and the both of you stood up to greet the speaker. A woman, Dr. Raynor. Bucky’s infamous therapist.

And speaking of infamous. The moment you heard his voice, you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping it was just your brain malfunctioning. And then he was walking towards you, calling Bucky ‘Bucky’ like they were old pals and he was saving him from something terrible.

Your face scrunched up as Walker talked about stopping Bucky’s regular therapy sessions. “He’s too valuable of an asset to have him tied up-”

“Don’t call him an asset.” You snapped. “He’s a human being with needs, and therapy-”

“He’s a super soldier with skills that we need.” Walker cut in, making you scowl as he turned back to Raynor.

You scoffed in disbelief at his words, turning on your heel and walking away before he did, heading straight for Bucky, who lifted his right arm, wrapping it around your shoulders once you were close enough.

“Are you okay?” You whispered, closing your eyes and trying to relax in his hold, breathing him in.

“Are you? Should you be walking? What did-”

You shook your head. “I’m fine.”

“Really?”

“Promise.” You sighed out with a nod, squeezing him once more before pulling back as Raynor stepped forwards, ordering Bucky and Sam to do a session with her. You almost laughed when Sam tried refusing, a little chuckle actually leaving your lips when Bucky slumped, dragging his feet like a kid going to the principal’s office.

You followed, Bucky holding the door open for you. “Thanks, Buck.”

“Of course, doll.” He gave a small smile, before walking in after you, Sam letting out a, “hey!” when Bucky shut the door on him, making you roll your eyes. You let the corners of your mouth tick up slightly in amusement. Yes, they annoyed the hell out of you, but you had to admit it was pretty funny sometimes.

“I believe I asked for James and Sam, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“It’s Agent, actually, and I think I’m gonna sit in.”

Raynor narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think-”

“That wasn’t a request.” You threw her words to Sam back at her, making Sam smirk. You shot him a wink as she relented with a sigh. 

“Fine. Just as a spectator. Don't interrupt.”

You raise your hands in surrender, slipping around the table to stand in the corner as your fellas sank down into the seats across the table from her.

A small puff of laughter came from you at the lack of response when she asked one of them to start. She shot you a warning look over her shoulder, but you shrugged. You couldn’t help it; it was like all those times back in grade school when a teacher asked for a volunteer to read in a classroom full of rowdy kids and crickets followed.

Once she mentioned the next exercise was used for couples, you had to laugh, making both men shoot you begging pouts.

“Y/N.” Raynor glared at you, so you controlled yourself, gesturing for her to continue.

Her miracle question did work so well, neither of them cooperating well.

She didn’t even bother with you when you started cackling after she mentioned the “soul-gazing exercise” and Bucky thanked her, Sam commenting that he would like this one. You gave a teasing wolf-whistle when they got close, one of Bucky’s thighs between Sam’s and vice versa.

“Doll.” Bucky whined at you.

“Listen here, smartass-”

Raynor cleared her throat, cutting Sam off from finishing his statement towards you. You leaned back against the wall, crossing your arms with a smirk. After all the bickering and side taking they’ve put her through, letting you enjoy this was the least they could do, and they knew it.

Of course, this exercise didn’t work out either. A staring contest. Children. She was best friends with literal children.

But then something happened. Something you never thought would happen. Raynor asked Bucky why Sam aggravated him, and Bucky looked over to you, his eye growing sad in a way they only did when Steve was involved.

“Steve believed in you.” Bucky told him earnestly. “He trusted you. He gave you that shield for a reason. That shield? That is…that is everything he stood for. That is his legacy. He gave you that shield, and you threw it away like it was nothing.  So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you, he was wrong about me.”

You heard his voice crack a little at the end as he slumped down in his seat, you jaw dropping slightly. You listened to the rest of the conversation, catching the way Sam grew irritated again, something that you didn’t previously think was possible, but was happening more and more now.

Why wasn’t Sam talking to you? Why was he holding all this in suddenly? And why���Bucky…he didn’t tell you that. Why didn’t he say anything? How could he ever feel…

But you knew how he could feel like that. Yes, Steve believed in him so much that he tore the Avengers apart for him…but he was the only one willing to do that for him. Yeah, you and Sam and Wanda and Clint, you all joined their side but, being honest, it wasn’t because you believed in Bucky. It was because you believed in Steve. Of course, it was different now. You believed in Bucky with your entire being, and you believed in Sam with your heart and soul, but…did either of them know that? Did they believe you when you told them? Or did you not tell them enough? This whole time you thought you were doing right by Steve - trying you damn hardest to watch out for them. But it obviously wasn’t enough. And that was on you, no matter what Sam said.

You read people. That’s what you’ve always done, that’s what you’d always do. It was the reason you earned your spot on the team. You read people and situations and could figure your way into their heads in a second. Years and years of undercover work taught you how to do that and how to protect yourself while doing so.

So why? How? How did you miss something this big? How did you miss the way Sam was holding onto something? Why did you ignore the vexation in his tone for the last couple weeks? How did you miss that Bucky was hurting that deeply? Why didn’t you do anything more for him?

You left the room before either of the boys, but you heard Sam standing up as you walked out the door.

You should’ve known you weren’t the only one holding things in. Of course they were. The difference is, you were supposed to be their rock, the thing they could hold onto to ground themselves, the shoulder for them to cry on, and the ear lent to them whenever they needed someone to listen. That was your job. It wasn’t their job. Not for you. Your rock - your shoulder, your ear - he left you. And you thought, after all he did for you, if you just returned the favor for his best friends, you’d…you dunno. You’d be closer to him, maybe.

But you couldn’t. Because you weren’t Steve Rogers. And you knew that from the start, but you had to try. You tried. And it wasn’t working. He made it seem so easy when he did it for you. Clearly you didn’t give him enough credit for dealing with all your shit on top of his own.

“Doll.” You didn’t stop walking, needing to get outside for some fresh air. “Doll, hold on. Wait a minute.”

He grabbed your arm as you made it outside, spinning you to face him. “You didn’t tell me.” You spoke quietly, your voice fragile as you stared at him, confusion and hurt in your eyes. Were you really that bad at doing your job? Did you really already fail him? He asked you to do one thing…

“I didn’t…I didn’t want you to deal with my problems.” You opened your mouth, but he shook his head, holding your face between his hands. “I’m not stupid, Y/N. I know something’s going on with you. You’re good at hiding your nightmares at night, but I’m better. You’re jumpier than usual. Quieter. Every time Wanda’s brought up, you turn away. And the other day? On the truck? You froze. I was watching, doll. It was just a second, but you froze. You never freeze.”

“It’s not your job to worry about me, Buck-”

He frowned, tilting his head. “Not my job? Aren’t we friends? Isn’t that what friends do? Or am I just a job to you? I know you promised him to look after me. Is that all I am to you? A responsibility?”

You shook your head vigorously, holding onto his wrists. “No. No, Bucky, I just-”

“Do you think he was wrong about me?”

Salty diamonds ran down your cheeks as you clenched your eyes shut and shook your head. “No.”

“Did you ever believe in me? Did you ever care or was it all just because Steve? Is Steve the only reason you tolerate me?”

“Don’t say that. God, please don’t say that.” You begged quietly, meeting his gaze again. Every beautiful detail was laced with devastation, eyes imploring her to make him feel better. “Of course I believe in you. I have since Wakanda, you know that. Yes, okay, maybe Steve is why I helped you at first, but-but…I care about you, James. So much so that it hurts sometimes. He wasn’t wrong about you. Or Sammy. You both mean so much to me. Okay?”

You watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed thickly, nodding slightly. You both simultaneously moved to get closer, him pulling you while you stepped into his chest, arms around his waist. His arms were tight around your shoulder, holding you just as firm as the kiss he planted on your forehead.

Sam came out, planting himself besides you as you pulled away, Bucky wiping your eyes. “I feel better.” He huffed out sarcastically, making you smack him in the arm. “Ow! Yeesh. Women these days.”

The sudden siren of one of the parked police cars made the three of you look over, spotting Walker and Hoskins. You groaned. “Did he see that?”

“Hey,” Bucky caught your jaw between his fingers, shaking his head. “Who cares? It’s between us and us only. Right?” You nodded, making him kiss your forehead again, a whisper of “attagirl” against your skin. You hadn’t heard that from him in a while.

“Gentlemen!” Walker waved them over, nodding at you. “And lady.” The three of you reluctantly walked over, Bucky going to lean on the police car Walker and Hoskins were near and you hopped up to sit on the hood of the police car across from them, Sam besides you.

You got information from Walker, who was once again trying to get you to work with him, but Sam summed it up nicely, explaining that the three of you didn’t have to follow the rules he did. You started to leave, Bucky tucking you under his arms once you slid off the car, when Walker stopped you once more.

“A word of advice, then. Stay the hell out of my way.”

You grumbled under your breath as the faker and his lapdog walked off. “I’m gonna kill him.” You vowed as the three of you started in the other direction. “I swear to God, I’m gonna rip that shield off his back and use it to beat him in that stupid face of his-”

“Down, girl.” Sam jested, flicking your ear. “We need a game plan. What’re we thinking?”

Your eyes narrowed as Bucky piped up, talking about the Isaiah character - who you still didn’t know - before HYDRA entered the equation.

“Absolutely not.” You shook your head, tugging his arm to make him stop once he mentioned Siberia. “Do you remember Siberia? Because if you’re actually suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, we remember Siberia very differently.”

“He’s our best bet-”

“So you’re just going to go sit in a room with this guy?”

Bucky scrunched up his nose. “Ye-yes…”

A beat of silence passed before Sam gave his stamp of approval, but you still disagreed. “There’s no way this’ll end well and I refuse to let you-”

You found your face between Bucky’s hands again. You really wished he’d stop doing that and just ask for your attention. You didn’t mean that, of course. You’d be held by him every second of every day if you could. “Don’t you trust me, doll?”

You licked your lips, looking around the darkened street. This was not a good idea. A bad plan - a terrible plan, really - but, unfortunately, it was the only one you had. “Dammit. I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.” You finally sighed, running a hand through your hair after Bucky let go of you, his eyebrow quirking.

“Is that a yes?”

Sam nodded. “We’re gonna go see Zemo.”

You tugged Bucky’s hand when he nodded back and went to walk after Sam, who started walking around the corner, making him stop. “And yes. I do trust you. With everything I have, Buckaroo.”

[spinaroos-47]

Hunter Noceda AU: Venance

(can't digitalize these rn so you'll get the sketches for now)

So yeah, Golden Guard version two!

When Belos does find out about Hunter in YBOS, Hunter gets the bomb dropped about them being related (idk how yet). but Hunter obviously doesn’t believe in it. Until Hunting Palismen comes around and they find this small thingy, Venance.

(thank you @bernardo-draws-and-cries​​ for the name. Its based on the name Venâncio, which means “the one who hunts”)

He is another grimwalker made by Belos, he’s 12 (yeah.) and way more stressed (Belos has gotten more iron fisted after losing Hunter). Someone save this poor child

- He’s just starting out as the Golden Guard (and he’s not a coven head. Kikimora is. And she still wants him dead too), he’s still getting the hang of it. He does act tough and serious, way more serious than canon GG/Hunter, no space for goofyness.

- So yeah, a duo Hunting Palismen thing would be fun. Haven’t sorted out everything here but I do think Hunter would also go with Luz because of no palisman reasons. And he hasn’t met Ven yet, he only heard Lilith talking about him and Luz and Eda dealing with him on Separate Tides (he was busy drowning in guilt and trying to help with the money situation in other ways), so when he meets Ven and when he sees his face and how similar they are (and how many scars that kid already has), he’s reasonably confused/upset, like “Oh, that creepy man wasn’t lying. This doesn’t make anything on this situation better”

- After the initial surprise/confusion, Luz and Hunter jokingly call him Ghaterer until they learn his name, then they start calling him Ven. At first Ven hates this nickname but ends up reluctantly accepting it.

- Even before Eclipse Lake he’s so scared about being replaced, and knowing about Hunter’s existence in the Boiling Isles makes it worse, now he’s super sure he isn’t as valuable to Belos anymore. So he hates Hunter

- Hunter: come here youre part of the found family now

Ven: NO

Hunter: too late *picks him up*

Hunter: If Luz taught me something is that if you didn’t want to get assimilated into my found family, you should have killed me when you had the chance

Yeah that’s their dynamic when Hunter learns a bit more about him

- Venance doesn’t have much respect as the Golden Guard yet. He’s small (like, maybe even less than 1,50m/4′11″), young, has just been starting out on this role, like, in the last few months, could easily be picked up like a kitty, so he has to fight quite a bit to be taken seriously. Which results on him being way more grumpy and short tempered

- So he doesn’t take it very well when hes made fun of by the scouts in Latissa. Not at all

- Hunter, who was joking around until then:…are you okay?

Ven: I AM! *barely holding the tears back*

Hunter:

Hunter: that’s it youre part of the family now

Ven: you can’t do that

Hunter: we’re two and you’re one, we have your staff and youre very light.

(he still would put up a fight, and it would take a while for it to end. And he bites hard, he has very sharp fangs)

- Scouts: Go home with your sibiling

Hunter: *oh. Oh yeah i forgot we have the same freaking face*

- They don’t know yet about the grimwalker thing. Well, maybe Ven discovers later but at the moment where Hunting Palismen happens, neither of them know anything besides them being related, Ven got told he is his brother, and that Hunter was taken away from the coven before he was born

- Rascal seeing Hunter: hey you’re cool, i kinda want to be your palisman

Rascal seeing Ven: oh heck this kid needs help 

- I’m not sure if Hunter gets Lil Rascal. Because on one side, would be fun for him to have Lil Rascal and train doing magic like this, but also could be good for Ven to have some small support back at home, like how they are to Hunter in canon. So this hasn’t been decided yet. Hunter could either get Lil Rascal and Ven doesn’t get a palisman/gets a blue jay palisman, or Ven gets Lil Rascal and Hunter comes back also empty handed

- So I’m going with the no palisman for Hunter route for now. 

- It’s a bitter moment for both him and Luz. He tries to convince her that it’s okay, that they’ll get theirs soon, but she still kinda feels like a failure about this. And he himself thinks it’s because they don’t have a magic bile sac, so it’s not a good time for them. Eda and King lift their spirits a bit about this, though.

- Either by peeking around or just flat out being told, Ven does learn about him (and Hunter) being grimwalkers. What does he do with that? He has a crisis about it, which raises even more the stakes for him in Eclipse Lake. He still wouldn’t know his purpose for the Day of Unity, but he would know that he was created for it and could lose his position if he didn’t prove himself worthy of it.

- He would explode at Hunter one day and end up telling the truth about them being Grimwalkers (after Eclipse Lake)

- Ven: Do you want to know what you really are?! You’re a clone! You’re just someone’s clone just like me! A replacement!

Hunter, trying to not freak out but freaking out anyways: ...are you okay?

Ven; WHAT DO YOU THINK?

- If Belos is searching for Hunter, on the grounds of him being a more mature grimwalker than Venance, Ven could end up resorting to sabotaging the searches, he doesn’t want to be replaced.

- And he’s making Ven convinced that he will be replaced, to pit both boys against eachother. He gets Ven more under his thumb and not risking Hunter making Ven change his mind. Which doesn’t work as he intented, Ven does get scared about it but Hunter ends up pretty quickly going “dude why do you think I want to replace you?” and Ven is quickly thrown into a loop because he can’t understand why he wouldn’t want to do that

- Ven: what do you mean with “I don’t wanna be the Golden Guard”? If you’re like me you should DESIRE IT SINCE YOU WERE BORN

Hunter: lol no. I dealt with my need of approval a year ago on therapy.

Hunter: Also being a cop sucks.

- This boy is a tense child always a few bad moments away from a breakdown/meltdown. And has anger problems. A lot of anger in a very tiny body

- There’s some more interactions between Ven and the Noceda duo, and he would rather die than admit that he’s got slightly attached to them

- Eda: Luz told me that Golden Guard is a uwu smol boi that needs to be protected, hell knows what this means 

Hunter, who definetly came there too because FUCKING COOL ASS CAVE AND LAKE: i hate/love her

Ven: If i ever see that human again-

Amity AND Hunter: watch your fucking mouth

(definetly not how it would play out but very funny sdkdshdfsj)

- In terms of strength he couldn’t defeat Amity in a fight for the key, he would lean more on the blackmailing. He is a 12 year old but he’s still on a position of power on the emperor’s coven and he knows where the key is, it would put the owlfam on Belos’ line of sight again (if they even ever went away from it)

- That or he passes out, gets dragged out of there by them (he’s a lil shit but they’re not going to leave him there alone where Kikimora could kill him) and he falls asleep for 12 hours in the couch on the owl house. Which ends up giving him a day where he can be just a kid. He’s very weirded out by everything but he enjoys it a little bit at least. He would still try to get the key and would be torn apart by the guilt of thinking of doing this and the guilt of not doing this

- It wouldn’t take much to make him want to stay in the owl house. He’s starved for positive attention. It wouldn’t be easy but also it’s not as hard as for how Hunter is right now in canon

- I don’t think this could happen but I keep thinking about one day him and Hunter switching places so he can be just a kid for one day. Would be cool to see him sneaking into Hexside (or being dragged there, which is more likely to happen) and interacting with Willow and Gus

And that’s some of what we have for Ven right now! He’s a fun character to figure out :3

This took SO MUCH TIME to write

[bridgetofwonderland]

do i have any actual plot points for a sequel to there'll be no rest for the wicked? nope not a one. did i start writing a sequel anyway? yep i sure did. did i figure out plot along the way? no i sure didn't, which is why it's mostly a collection of scenes that go nowhere and remains in my drafts unfinished. it's roughly titled ‘we never had a shotgun shot in the dark.’ and here's the first scene, which is layla and warren going to visit warren's dad in prison

a year after wildfire and poison have vanished from the public eye, layla williams and warren peace visit barron battle in jail.

“why did you do it?” layla asks. she’s sitting with her legs neatly crossed and her hands folded in her lap, hiding the rings that will gave her on their fifth anniversary. warren resists the urge to touch his own, which hang on a chain around his neck. he doesn’t need to give his father this. he doesn’t need to give his father anything.

“i knew what they were doing,” he said. there’s a beat. warren tries to make a flame appear on his hand, just a small one, to keep himself calm. making flames takes focus, and if he’s focusing, there’s no room for him to feel. the flame doesn't come, and warren remembers a second too late that the prison keeps superpowers from working. of course it does. it's a prison for supervillains, after all.

barron battle — that was his legal name, after all. sometimes warren wonders what his grandparents were thinking. how they could name a child that without expecting them to be a supervillain. but then again, neither of them had had powers, and superheros didn't exist yet — eyes layla and warren. “what do you think you’re doing, coming here after all these years?”

warren ignores him. “who’s they?” he asks. he doesn’t have time for this bullshit. to untangle the twisted web of his feelings about his father to his father. hell, he can barely talk about it in therapy — or he could, back when he was going. he stopped after she told him that his anger after will died wasn’t ‘productive.’ ‘productive’ his ass. they'd taken down an entire government conspiracy. of course, he'd never told her about his powers, or that his super alter-ego was on several government watchlists, or the activities that had gotten him placed on there.

barron gestures around. “all of them.” warren frowns. he clenches his fist, then unclenches it, trying to breathe. layla notices, and takes hold of his hand, squeezing it gently. her presence is comforting in a way that grounds him.

“what was it that they were doing?” layla asks, patiently.

“they wanted to control us! they wanted to take us and turn us into their little rats! i wanted them to know that some rats bite.” barron snaps his teeth together, laughing, and layla flinches away from him. warren tries not to snap at his father. he knows, he knows — god, how he knows — that his father’s been under lock and key for the better part of twenty-six years now, and that he was never really that stable to begin with, and they’re not going to get what they want if warren loses his mind and screams at his father.

“so you’re saying,” he says calmly, after what could be considered a long, long pause. “that you wanted to get back at them for trying to control us?”

barron nods, seemingly glad that someone finally gets it. “they want to control our powers. turn us into weapons,” he mutters, and pulls a small ball of wire out of his jumpsuit and begins fiddling with it. “i saw them. i saw the files, and… bridgett didn’t… she didn’t want to see. you were just a baby, then, and she… she couldn’t burn it all to the ground with you there.”

warren bites his lip, an old habit that’s died hard, so hard he draws blood. the metallic tang fills his mouth, and warren is snapped back to the day they’d found the project curiosity files. the video of the man saying that will was replaceable. the way they'd chuckled as they took his body apart.

“you didn’t stop them, did you?” layla asks softly, reaching out and touching barron’s arm gently. “they kept doing it. they kept doing all of it.” she used to be better at this kind of stuff, at the comfort and the emotions, and then will died. now she still is, but she does it with a cold steel behind her eyes and a bite to her voice that wasn't there before. there's an edge to her that warren is afraid will splinter off and break.

barron shakes his head. “fucking commander,” he mutters, half to himself. “he’s their little lapdog. tried to kill me. smashed my head wide open.” warren wonders what his father would say if he knew that his boyfriend was the commander's son.

luckily, he doesn't have to wonder, because right after, barron's face splits open with a wide grin. “got what he deserved, though, didn't he? his fucking son got his head smashed in. serves him right.”

at that, the image of will's smashed body fills warren's mind, and that's the last thing he remembers before they're pulling him off his father.

[antiloreolympus]

10 Anti LO Asks

1. I would have thought the Hera/Hades plot would have been used to add some much needed tension between HxP and having Persephone question her mentor and have to seriously analyze Hades is he would be worth it as a romantic partner. But no, instead it's Hades and Hera feeling no remorse and Persephone sobbing she will never be as good as Hera and how she needs to "prove herself" that she can be worthy of HIM. Persephone, girl, you deserve so much better than relying on his crusty ass for approval.

2. I honestly wouldn't be shocked if a lot of the plots are left unaddressed/unresolved by the end, tbh. Ultimately the main thing that has to be resolved is HxP getting together, but there's no promise that everything else has to be addressed or  wrapped up. For all we know the fans, if that were to happen, could see it as some genius writing to let the fans imagine what happened instead and/or give way to sequels. They'll excuse anything she does, so why not that too?

3. it's been nearly four years of publishing, they've made out 5-ish times by now, they're already talking marriage, persephone already lives with him, etc etc yet they still act as if theyre horny 14 year olds who just met?? like theres a fair share of high school romance comics on wt and even those literal children act more like adults than these literal gods. it becomes so repetitive and tonally off too when LO also tries to be a murder mystery / political drama / serious commentary as well.

4. I think being flustered over the topic of sex or being called ones boyfriend/girlfriend can be cute .. if it happens once or twice. At the start of the series stuff like this is perfectly fine, but we're nearly four years into it now and moments like that happen basically every other episode, so it's repetitive&annoying. More so, why is a grown adult acting like a 14 year old? I can excuse P since she is young, but what's his excuse? He's a king! Stop hanging out with college sophomores, creep!

5. I still can't get over the fact that RS decided that Hades made abandoned child to work for him. Antis always had this uneasy feeling that child souls might be also slave workers. This basically confirms it. If Hades has no problem making god child work for him, why would he care about human child souls? And most fans blindly accept it as good thing. Hades threatened Thanatos who he "raised," then Thanatos got scared of him. Only ones who got scared of Hades are ones who Hades harmed.

6. I hate how Hades suggested therapy to Persephone and then took her to a therapist but he clearly never did something like this for Minthe

From OP: Tbf, Minthe could’ve refused but that’s just an assumption. Plus, we barely see Hades talking to his own therapist anyway.

7. Zeus and Demeter are the best and hottest characters. Hades is a creepy old man and Persephone has the exact same personality of a wet cloth. 

8. TBH I feel like WT itself also hurts LO? Because they're v open in how little editor or oversight there is so that's why having RS be in the only one in control of the whole thing becomes so subpar. Like if there was an actual editor planning everything out, looking over scripts and story, etc and a quality checking team to make sure the plots made sense, the pacing worked, no typos etc then the quality would jump up so much, because right now it's basically just one person in over their heads.

9. LO is terrified of having incest in the comic (despite it still technically be in it anyway) yet is totally ok showing onscreen sexual assault thats used to push a relationship along, divine racism, classism in showing the rich as good for abusing and even killing the poor, excessive greed being framed as good, and framing being a slave owner as good business? talk about weird priorities.

10. I swear, Rachel could become the damn Prime Minister of NZ and her fans will still claim she's some small indie creator who doesn't deserve any critique because she's an "amateur" (which lets be real here, even the smallest Featured creators are still in the industry even if its lower rung). Like at what point is she & LO finally able to be critiqued without all these excuses? Because it seems both herself and her defenders keep moving the goal posts so even light critique isn't allowed.

[literaryfic]

singer!cha-young & violinist!vincenzo au pt.2

park ju-hyung is abandoned in a South Korean orphanage when he’s 7.

he gets adopted by an Italian couple, the Rossis, who want nothing more than to be parents. they’re older, but kind and patient with him. he misses his mom at first, has a hard time adapting to Italy, the language, the food, the people. everything is new and scary. but they’re here every step of the way, consoling him after a nightmare, holding his hand through a difficult night. 

ju-hyung is nothing if not resourceful and intelligent, and he works hard to become vincenzo rossi. he learns Italian quickly, eager for people, for his new family, to accept him. he wants to make sure to become the perfect son, a child no one would think to abandon. 

his adoptive parents sign him up for violin classes when he’s eight. they’re big classical music fans and they want to share their passion with him. he loves the way they look at him when he plays, they seem proud. so he tries hard.

turns out vincenzo is exceptionally good at violin. so much that people start calling him a prodigy. by the time he’s 10, the Cassano Fondation notices him and they become his patrons. he gets homeschooled, but really he just has private tutoring after his day-long violin lessons.

he spends his days at the Fondation, surrounded by teachers, coaches, older students. he’s the youngest there, and he doesn’t get much interactions with people his age. he doesn’t mind, he’s not very social anyway. he might be young but he understands the disdain in some adults’ eyes, he hears the slurs they direct at him from their children’s mouths.

his only friend is Luca, the son of his parent’s cleaner. he’s two years younger than him, immature and childish, the way a kid their age should be, but vincenzo doesn’t mind. he likes playing catch with him when no one’s looking (“be careful not to hurt your hands, vinny. a musician’s hands are just as important as his heart.”, his father had said.) . he likes how carefree and bright Luca looks when he’s playing with his little cars. they hang out on sundays, the only afternoon where vincenzo doesn’t have lessons.

of course, he wins every competition he enters. his audition tapes are played to students 5 years older than him. people gather at the windows of his private classroom at the Fondation.

when he’s 15, he’s getting ready to start his career as a soloist when his adoptive parents die tragically in a car crash. his parents, the people who’d wanted him when no one else did, had left him. he’d been abandoned once again, twice an orphan.

everything happens so fast. he inherits his family’s massive fortune, and Fabio’s the Fondation head, decides to adopt him. he becomes vincenzo cassano. in 15 years, he’s had three different names, three different identities. he doesn’t know who he is, really, but he knows what he can do: play the violin.

and he does, and he takes the classical world by storm, a sensation unlike anything they’ve seen before. he’s praised for his technicality as much as his interpretation, his performance skills mature beyond his young age.

what they don’t see is him rehearsing ten hours a day for years, without a break. vincenzo cassano doesn’t do days off, apparently. he loses himself in his music, in his art, lets it consume him so that ju-hyung, vincenzo

he travels the world, plays in a different country almost every month. he doesn’t have to think about who he is and where he belongs when he plays, he can just focus on the notes, on the emotions the pieces he plays evoke. 

some might think that vincenzo loved his career as a world class violinist because he was considered one of the best to ever play, a genius admired by all and a forgotten by none. others might believe he simply loved music. they’d be all wrong. he couldn’t care less about fame, recognition and glory. vincenzo played the violin because for a short moment, when he stood on stage, he disappeared. all eyes might have been on him, but vincenzo felt invisible, the music he created hiding him from the world. 

at 33, he’s accomplished everything there is to accomplish, played with every orchestra, every conductor, has interpreted every piece. he’s released 6 albums, two of them winning a Grammy for Best Classical Music Album, has one three Grammy’s for Best Classical Instrumental Solo and is the best paid soloist on the circuit. 

vincenzo cassano is tired, drained and empty. he’s given everything he had to give, and music isn’t enough anymore. he wants to live a life away from people now, on his own. but first, there is something he needs to do: find his biological mother. 

he had started therapy a year ago, not by choice. luca and his agent, mateo, all but forced him to go. “it’ll do you some good to talk about what goes on in there. there’s no shame in going.”, luca had tried. “if you don’t go, i’m cancelling all your performances for the next year.”, mateo had had the last word. 

he had discussed his adoption and the anger he arbored towards his biological mother with his therapist, and had concluded that he should try to have some closure. he needed to know why she left him, what made her decide he wasn’t good enough. six months ago, he’d hired a private investigator based in Seoul to search for her. a month later, he had a name and an address. Geumga community center, where she apparently teaches the violin. 

after he learns that his biological mom is a violin teacher, vincenzo feels sick every time picks up his instrument. he’s forced to stop playing, to stop performing, to stop disappearing. anger runs in his veins, underneath the surface, threatening to erupt at any time. 

“Vincenzo Cassano announces retirement from the music scene, world mourns his absence already” “Vincenzo Cassano is retiring because of mental health issues, insiders reveal” “Is Vincenzo Cassano retiring because he’s not the best anymore?” 

he flies out to Seoul on a whim, without telling his team or Luca. he books a 5-star hotel a few subway stations from the community center. he’s given himself a week. a week to confront his mother, to close this chapter. 

he never makes it to the community center. instead he walks around Seoul, head low. people recognise him, which he didn’t expect. although he feels no particular attachment to his motherland, South Koreans are very fond of him. how could they not, when one of their compatriots is the best violinist in the world? over the years he’s had a few interviews in South Korea and has donated to some local charities. although most of it was orchestrated by his management team, people seemed to love him and his name meant something here. 

the closer he gets to going to his mother’s workplace is a small restaurant right in front of the community center. he’s not used to korean food anymore, but he enjoys it. the place is empty until one man, probably around 55 years old, sits right in front of him. “a bottle of makgeolli, please!” he asks the owner. 

“can i help you?” vincenzo says, surprised someone would dare to sit at a stranger’s table. “mmh. why have you been hovering past the Geumga community center for a week?” 

“hovering?”, vincenzo scoffs, “i don’t think this is any of your business, sir.” 

“it is since i work there. are you ms.oh’s long lost son or something?” vincenzo spits out his water. 

[yconic]

"Divorce is a special kind of pain. It's like death without a body, " is what they say when two halves of a whole heart separate.

Tony never understood when he was younger, never extended the notion of two people who gifted each other to eternity in union splitting up beyond 'Just not talking for a bit.'

He looked at it from a small perspective belonging to a small person, as if the people in question were just two good friends who couldn't decide on what game to play, hurt each other, and needed space.

His parents had done it more times than he cared to count. The frigid silences and artificial prompt politeness between the socialite power couple Howard and Maria Stark could last for two days, or two months, depending on how deep the issue picked out that time ran.

Tony sat straight as he watched the clock tick away, dutifully counting the hours that would bring Maria closer to home from whichever elicit travel affair she filled her time with while Howard closes himself into his workshop, stewing in anger and bitterness that leak out from the door he's not permitted to trespass.

He learns to measure the gravity of their squabbles, - If it's a small argument, Maria picks Germany, France, or Spain. She sends a letter stating the duration of her stay. She sends Tony well wishes, with a touch of formality for a mother, and her name is elegantly plastered on the bottom in cursive.

When Howard fucks up, she picked China, Britain, or Italy, and she disappeared from the earth until she emerged at her like. Howard is Howard, - the relationship between him and his son was too cold for Tony to tell how his father was like without the disdain gleaming in his eyes, but the liquor cabinet always needed at least a daily refill after a spectacular drama.

He looks back at those moments and realizes, with a shade of pity coated in something more sour, mellow but active, that divorce was never an option for them, the cycle of co-dependency and maintaining legacy had to be kept no matter how demanding that task was.

He can't bring himself to be angry when he feels so bad for them. All that money, and they couldn't buy a second of peace.

It doesn't take long for him to realize his parents don't love each other.

Tony was young, but he was never a child. He was naive, gullible, innocent, - but he was awake. While he didn't clearly understand what love was, he looked at the unhappy frowns on the miserable faces of the pair and thought: 'If that's how love looks like I want no part in it.'

He doesn't love people for more than one night, - A full week if their company was good enough to distract him from the rich golden color of his whiskey that gradually tastes bitter, and more bitter every time. It's not love, he knows, - He keeps that special for his family. But the kind of feeling he has with strangers, with nobody's with a name, resembles what he knows of love too much for him to change meaning.

He won't know how "love" feels like. He refuses to be the caged bird his mother was, to take form in the monster Howard let himself become.

Then, life gives him Steve.

He nests into Tony's life like a storm with skin, hair kissed by sunshine and eyes filled with an ocean that the brunette longs to sink into. He has a boyish charm to him, an old soul that swoops Tony off his feet. It makes him want to slow down, even if he belongs to the future, to activity, to progress. He wants to sit and listen to the stories Steve has, told in a Brooklyn swird that gives character to every word.

Steve looks at him like Rhodey told him all people should look at him. 'Like they can't see the status, or the money, or the power. Like they just see Tony, and nothing more. Because Tony will always be enough. ' Steve looks at him like he hangs the moon for him.

Tony never stood a chance. He looked at Steve, and thinks: "Oh, shit. He's It for me."

He just knows that this one, this Captain, decorated to the teeth, hiding in awkwardness at this petty mingling, social climbing Gala, lowering himself at the bar because he didn't know anybody, was made for him. And if Steve clings to Tony the whole night, he agrees with the parallel drawing out on his part.

He doesn't leave Tony's side, arm snug and comfortable around his middle like they've known each other for longer than time itself, and Tony loves it more than he has the courage to say.

Steve looks at him when the epilogue of the night strikes, too soon for either of their likings. He's tall, broad-shouldered, strong but has the softest eyes in the world. It hurts Tony to arch his neck to stare, but he doesn't want to miss a thing. "I've... I didn't laugh like that since I was in tour. You made my night, Tony."

"It's nothing, -" Because it really is. Considering the sins to his name, the least he can do to atone some mistakes is make as much people as happy as he can. And Happy is a great look on Steve.

He does learn one thing: When Steve says something, it stays how Steve says it. "No, its everything, Tony. I didn't smile once since coming home, " he croaks, like the confession pains him, and Tony aches alongside him. "Everyone is worried about me, saying that, that I seem upset, or sad, or just, never happy anymore, but how else am I supposed to feel?"

"You can't let others tell you how you feel, " Tony soothes, without thinking, a hand softly brushing against Steve's cheek. A frisson zaps through him at the feeling of the soldier's stubble spiking his skin. Steve leans into his touch like it's the most normal thing in the world. Tony's heart grows. "It's not even in your control, so why should it be in theirs? " He understands how Steve feels. More than the world would care to listen.

"Exactly. So, if it's not too much trouble, " his shyness compliments Tony's smitten. "Would you mind making me smile again?"

Tony is, utterly, indubitably, irrevocably, without a shade of doubt, fucked.

He smiles anyway. "You know, soldier, I think I could pull some strings."

---

Their love is like rain in June. It's mellow and distractingly peaceful, makes their worry and everything that ever went wrong scarce away. They can breathe around each other even when they feel like drowning. For once, Tony feels like it'll be okay.

But Life decides to do what it always does when Tony finds something good. It takes, and it takes, until there's nothing.

Steve tells him about Bucky. About the fallen brother that vanished in the mission that stole everything for Steve. "Only one soldier fell off that train, but two died that day, " God, Tony is so worried when Steve talks like that. "It should've been me. I wanted it to be me."

Tony listens and he pictures Rhodey falling. Steve loved Bucky in ways he couldn't even hope to understand.

It turns out, Death is not something so permanent after all.

It's a lovely night for them when Steve gets that call. He's wrapped around Tony and holds him in his arms as if he'd rather go to war again than let him go and Tony's heart never beat so loud for anyone. He would have never let Steve answer if he knew that phone call was the beginning of their end.

Bucky's alive again, is reborn from snow and war and ashes. Broken, but alive. Held captive by terrorists and is unmade, undid, but still alive. Everything around Steve is lost after that.

Tong gives him space and resources, help, support, he gives everything to Steve like on their wedding day. He gives him his care and gentle hands and soft words and love with a heartbeat. And Steve is just... Too preoccupied looking at Bucky to notice. Tony feels like a selfish bastard for wanting his soldier to look at HIM instead of coddling his friend at every moment notice.

He wants Steve to stop suffocating Bucky when he already looks like he's just inhaling instead of breathing.

He wants his husband back.

That's why he deserves what's coming to him. That's his punishment.

They drift apart slowly, as most terrible pains start.

Steve starts spending more and more time around the mental help facility Bucky asked to be enlisted into after his hasty return that had everyone clutching at their pearls. He wants to do it alone, Tony figures easily, starves for a journey he wants to walk himself, for the kind of autonomy only a man who lost it for too long craves.

His bitterness aside, Tony marvels at how similar they are. Maybe In another life, he and Barnes would've made a handsome pair of kindred souls.

Steve doesn't agree. He looks sickened, struck even, at Tony for having the Gall to suggest maybe Barnes would be more responsive if he talked with someone who had mirroring experiences. "God, Tony, you don't... You're not a soldier. You're just a man. You've been through pain, sure, but not like Bucky. No one went through what he did. I'm honestly speechless you ever thought you could compare."

Steve says that, it's why it hurts so bad. The man who swore he'd walk back into the hellfire of war just to find the people who hurt Tony and tear them apart.

The man who couldn't be moved by anything. No nightmare, no night terror, no panic attack, no argument. Nothing convinced Steve to leave. He stayed through it all.

The man who cried relentlessly when Rhodey walked Tony down the alter because 'He couldn't believe how lucky he was to marry someone so beautiful.'

The man who hasn't written Tony a love letter every morning like he used to do in over a year.

The man who spent more time sleeping in hospital rooms than in their bed.

The man who used to not go even one day without saying "I love you". Tony can't even remember the last time this sentence was spoken between them unless he said it first.

The man who agreed to couple therapy, then acted like it rained the next day.

Tony would will himself to shove this under the rug. To put a blind eye to it, to make it work, to ignore Rhodey's disapproval and Pepper's warm worry, to push away the pain blossoming in his chest, threatening to overspill.

But this man adopted a child with him.

---

"That one" Steve points to a small boy, thin but sturdy-looking even in the hand me downs from the orphanage, short limbs supporting a mess of brown hair that looks impossibly soft. His eyes are big and kind. Tony wants to take him home and feed him. "That one's ours."

His name is Peter, and he got into a fight with older kids when they wanted to stomp on ladybugs. He pushes back, but not unkindly. He's no bully. Instead, he takes the time to teach them why disrespecting and hurting nature is wrong, then takes their hands into his own, playing with the tiny creatures for hours.

Tony falls in love immediately. "Let's bring him home, Cap."

---

He can't do it. Tony can't look into Peter's adoring eyes, wide and brown that feel more like a mirror than anything, and see the fear he had for Howard, or the sadness for Maria. Tony can't handle looking at the love of his life and see another him.

Steve is Peter's role model. His knight in shining armor, his protector, everywhere he goes he sings praise to anyone who cares to listen. About his fearless father, his heroic antics that seem so tall for him. "My daddy's a superhero!" Tony doesn't have the heart to take that away.

And Tony loves Steve too much to see him become Howard.

So when Steve misses their son's 5th birthday party because he had more pressing business in D.C, Tony realizes bitterly, there's no saving this. People labeled him as a mechanic, a futurist, but he feels unworthy of both when he couldn't fix or foresee this.

There's no coming back from this.

Natasha doesn't voice it, but she doesn't need to. She tucks her phone away after a third failed attempt to coax, threaten, and guilt Steve into joining them, with muted movements, and Tony can tell she agrees.

Tony's grin is too wide when he looks down at Peter when he drags him off to paint his face, unaware of his father's turmoil. He laughs. He smiles. He celebrates. He has a nice day with his family.

He pulls Pepper aside and asks her to prepare his lawyers in the same breath.

This is why Tony knew love wasn't made for him.

---

Tony's always been good at hurting himself. The more pain he inflicts on himself, the less it'll hurt when someone else does it. So he unpacks the stash of letters he kept locked away in a seif, because they're prized to him, more than any sleek car or company, and reads them before he burns the bridge.

They feel like warm kisses and goodbyes.

'Left for a grocery jog, ran out of coffee. It's supposed to be cold, so don't you even think about leaving the house without a jacket! I'll know. Take care of yourself, even when I'm not there. '

' I love waking up next to you every morning. I love how you hide from the sun in my chest. I love how grumpy you are when Pepper calls for updates and all you do is cuddle me and whine. I love your messy bed hair and how you fall asleep in the shower.

'I never cared for jewelry before but seeing my ring around your finger never gets old. I still can't believe you said yes, but I'm glad you did. You deserve more, but you settled for someone like me. I can't believe it when you say no one would want you forever, I hate that someone made you think like that, that they let you go, but their biggest mistake is my biggest win. Jokes on them.'

'I can't imagine my life without you. Its all radio silence and broken static. Like an artist with a blank canvas and grey paint. You're the best damn thing that ever happened to me, and the fact that I have you means there really is someone up there looking our for me. I'm never letting you go. I love you, I love you, I love you, '

Tony stains the paper with tears as he listens to the song of heartbreak in his chest.

---

"Nat, " Tony pleads, choosing not to look at the tremor in his hands as he neats the papers he wants to see burn. "There's no need for that, come on. You know I love you, but I'm a big boy. I don't need you to hold my hand for this."

Natasha shrugs. "Indulge me."

"He wouldn't do anything to me."

"I thought there were lots of things he wouldn't do. Like stop loving you, for one, " she doesn't mean to be a jab, but Tony strokes his right arm and lets the hurt wash off. He sometimes forgets how blunt and terrifying Pepper's wife is capable of being. "Being paranoid is worth being safe."

They find Steve in the kitchen, sitting stiff and unfamiliar as if he didn't design the place himself. Tony swallows down the pressure in his throat and forces his eyes to stay dry. He wants to rest his hands on Steve's shoulders and pepper the lines of laughter on his flushed face with kisses.

But they're behind that now.

Steve raises his eyes to look at him. He's tired, run-down, missing the spark Tony marked as one of his favorite traits of the blonde. The life wasted from them, telling Tony that he's surviving, but not living.

Tony looks at him back and his eyes say, 'Me too.'

Steve's mouth twists into an imitation of a smile, tries his luck at mimicking something of the reassurance and ease variety, to hide his emotions with a mask of cracked peace Tony undressed a million times, just as Steve undressed his. He's always been good at reading the man. Or, was.

Steve's eyes fall on the documents Tony's holding with his naked hands, no ring in sight, and Tony watches something die in him.

The room drowns in silence for a while.

Natasha stands as a loyal shadow at his side, silent but sharp, hands folded in front of her crotch like a guard dog waiting to pounce. There's a forced calm into her breathing that puts him even more on edge.

Papers brush smoothly above the marble surface, ear piercing to him. Red hot blazing into white noise. It's the most terrible sound he's ever heard. He prefers his breathless, agonized screams in Afghanistan to this.

Steve recoils away, standing up suddenly and shakily, as if the documents are bombs about to kill him anytime now.

He turns his head, refusing to look at them. Refuses to accept they're real.

"Throw those away, Tony, " he says, voice edged with the kind of suffering that would bring Tony to his knees on other circumstances."Get them the hell away from me and never bring them up again, you hear me? I'm serious.''

Carefully, Natasha chimes in, tone mild and neutral. " Steve. Tony would like to speak with you about something, alright? Let's sit down, and talk like grown-ups, -"

"Where's your ring!?" Steve shouts, tiptoeing at the border of desperate and hysteric. Tony wants back into the cave, wants the water to take him away from all of this. It's hard to kill something that's already dead. "What did you do with it!? Why aren't you wearing it!? You PROMISED me, you promised you'd never take it off you JERK, you lying -"

"And you promised to love me until the day we die, but by the looks of it we both could use a lesson in honesty, " Tony cuts icily, colder than colder. His words are resigned, hollow, at the brim of mechanical. He thinks all the people who say Starks are more machine than men had a point. "I'm the fuck up in this relationship. What's your excuse?"

He thought he'd feel vindication watching Steve taste a fraction of his sorrow, that his destroyed look would make something in Tony retaliate. It does nothing. Tony loves him stronger, fiercer, and there's no win here for anyone.

His mouth tastes like ashes.

He just wants to stop, to sink in his bed and swim in ratty hoodies drenched in cheap but sweet cologne, smudged with paint of all shades, and feel Steve's arms shield him from the world.

He wonders if it'll keep Steve up at night, how it never occurred to him that the danger he wanted to defend Tony from might have his face.

"I'll do better. Tony please," Steve begs him, and Tony wonders if the situation is so low a man with his nature would resort to that. He's shaken by big hands engulfing his own for exactly a moment before Natasha intervenes, pushing the blonde away with a hint of regret. Steve recovers, looks right through her at Tony who wants to wipe his tears away. "I'll do better, I'll- I'll spend less time with Bucky if you want, -"

"Bucky isn't the problem. It's not about HIM, it was never about him, this is US, Steve. We, our marriage, our family, its been here longer than Bucky. I never wanted you to - to erase him from your life, I just wanted my husband. Peter wanted his daddy. Bucky could've been apart of that, but you just, you just pushed us aside,-"

"I won't do that anymore. I, - Do you want me to be at home more often? I can, sweetheart, I can do that no problem. I can be at home, I can make time for dates and-and for activities, I can take Peter to the park and play ball, - Do you remember that? How we used to play until he fell asleep? I don't mind, its no problem, -"

Something in Tony snaps.

"WE'RE NOT YOUR FUCKING CHORES," His voice is more roar than man, ragged, tight, pushed to the last limit. The garden of silent pain, fury, rage, and fear he's been harboring finally blossomed into something that seemed to shake the world. His body shudders. "We're not some,- some pestering tasks that you have to save your precious time to complete! Some fucking pets other people have to force you to care of, or some dirty laundry you decide to wear whenever you feel like washing! We're your damn FAMILY,- " A sob hitches his anger, and by the broken look on Steve's face, it's worse than any rage.

He narrows his eyes in disbelief, as if Steve was some stranger and not someone he gave years of his life to. A laugh is pushed out of his chest, choked, long, and terrible. "I would've ended this sooner if, - God, if I knew how much of a burden we became for you."

"Tony, Tony don't say that, " Steve's face is blotched red, painted in punishing torment. "I love you and Peter more than anything in this life. You're mine, both of you, how can you think I don't love you? I, -"

"Just love Bucky more, " Tony finishes, note flat, accepting, rehearsed. His voice feels as hollow as his chest when Steve flinches. "I'm just... I'm so tired. Steve,I'm tired, and- I can't do it anymore. My son, my baby is not going to be a burden on anybody. I can put up with a lot of shit, but Peter is my limit. I can't and I won't put anyone above him. Not even you."

Horror shines bright and clear on the blue eyes Tony loves so much. He spots Steve's finger tremble at his sides, notices the hesitant movement of his Addams apple.

Natasha was wrong. It's a rare occurrence, but it happened.

Steve never stopped loving him.

It makes signing the papers so much harder.

---

Steve lost Bucky to ice, snow, and time. Tony loses Steve to fire, anger, and distance.

---

Pepper is surprised when she hears Steve ended up signing willingly.

She doesn't want to ruin the calm air that finally settled over the emotion packed atmosphere surrounding the living room, currently stashed with carton boxes filled with Steve's stuff, ready to be delivered tomorrow as Tony wanted, but it's a needed talk.

"What did you say to convince him?" She asks, not demanding an answer but clearly expecting one. "I'd just assume Nat had him in an arm lock until he agreed, but, in all honesty, Steve would probably lose an arm than do what people tell him to. Seriously, I've seen anarchists with more respect for authority than this guy."

Tony laughs, too loving and too fond for this predicament. "I said you'd drag his ass through every courtroom in America and drain him of everything he's worth?"

"Mmm. Try again. I mean, that's a Sunday for me, but he's already heard that talk before." Giggles are shared between the pair on the couch, snuggled under fuzzy blankets with wine glasses that clink slightly. Pepper's face relaxes into something sympathetic, earnest. "Was it something Peter related?"

"No, " he shakes his head. It never crossed his mind once, no matter how hurt he was. It felt too much like what his father would do. " Peter is his son, too. No matter what happens between us. There's no changing that. "

"No one would blame you if it came down to that, you know that, right?"

He hums. Pepper waits.

"I asked him to let me say goodbye to my husband instead of forcing me to stay with Howard."

A sharp intake of breath settles something cold beneath Tony's skin. He closes his eyes, and accepts the wine Pepper pours in his cup, neither commenting on how it spills over the rim.

---

Talking to Peter is the hardest part.

He doesn't understand why suddenly there's only two people there instead of three, why he isn't woken up by two pairs of arms tickling him and kissing his sleepy eyelids every morning, why Tony's laughter isn't echoing through the house as Steve spins and twists him around in the living room dance session they had at least once a week.

Why, apparently, Steve now has a permanent residence in DC and can only see him twice a week as their legal agreement states.

Why he has to live in two different places and split his playtime.

Why Tony bought a new apartment and they had to move away, stretching the distance between them and Steve.

"Is Papa comin' home today?" A hand squeezes Tony's heart painfully tight at the small question. He looks down at his son, smaller than usual and playing with his fingers at his feet. His frail shoulder raise, housing an anxious breath as he awaits an answer.

Tony takes his tiny hand in his own, leaning down to press kisses on the back of his son's palm, apology on his lips. "Yeah, baby. He has to come and pick up his stuff. Maybe you can play a little when he arrives! I'm sure he'll be happy to see you. "

Steve sends Sam to pick up his things and Tony feels guilt bite at him for hissing 'coward' in his mind.

Peter is excited to see his uncle Sam but the disappointment when he hears a truck coming instead of the deep rumble of a motorcycle engine doesn't wash off. He soldiers on, smiles for Sam because as little as he is, he's careful with people and their emotions. His goodness is organic. He takes after Steve like that.

Sam's always been frustratingly talented at deciphering his thoughts, even when his face is emotionless. It's one of the many reasons why Tony thinks him and Rhodey match so well. "He said he's really sorry he couldn't come, but... Okay, his excuse is just sad, because I doubt you'd believe he'd rather attend a Zoomba class than see you and Peter. Truth is, he's scared."

"Of facing me?"

"Of hurting you."

"Yeah, well, he's already got that job done on the to do list, " Tony huffs, petty and aware. He tosses Peter his baseball that lands in the backyard, gently nudging him away from the conversation. They watch the ball of energy squeal in delight as he runs to fetch it, tension momentarily on hold. "Sorry. You don't need my shit. Let's just load this and be done with it."

Sam huffs. "Man, I've been involved with your shit for a while. Appreciate the feeling but it's a bit late for that. Trust me, me and Rhodey have in length discussions about it. I'm neck-deep in white boy drama, but well, sacrifices of the job. Not much you can do."

He's playful, Tony knows this, in the corner of his brain that isn't raided by anxiety, yet fear claws at him, sharp and cruel and unexpected. Coldness spreads inside him like wildfire, almost matching the thoughts racing in his mind. Sam and Rhodey were talking? Were they arguing? Had Tony harmed Rhodey's relationship as if he didn't wreck his own enough?

"Talk?" Tony rasps, pushes the words out of his constricted throat that seems to close more and more, synchronizing with his lungs. Sam's wide, concerned eyes tells him the surface looked as bad as the inside."You... You and Rhodey, you guys- Bad talk? You, you fought about it?"

His mind torments him by showcasing Rhodey yelling in Sam's face and Sam yelling back, both standing their ground like two soldiers on a mission and defending their friends like avenging angels. Rhodey is more brother than friend, he'd take his side, like the devoted friend he always proved himself to be, but he watches with a cut breath as Rhodey locks himself in his room and weeps.

Rhodey sharing his fate is Tony's own horror movie.

"...ony! Tony, deep breaths, come on, " gentle hands guide him away from the void his own psyche trapped him into, speaking in a low voice that plucks him back up little by little. "Come on, in and out. Focus on my voice, that's good. Listen to me, Rhodey and I did not and will not fight about this. We're fine, Tony, promise! We agreed, no side pickers. This isn't war, and we won't get into some life or death fight for your and/or Steve's honor, " he tries for a little grin. ''I mean, I'm not supposed to tell you, but we don't like you guys that much."

Tony laughs, at once, a pathetically small sound, but he's grounded enough to laugh. He basks in the lack of sound around them, like the silence of an after battle, suffocating, but free.

The quiet hangs in the air as they load the truck, too, not oppressing, but welcomed, with a touch of comfort that burns just right. When the last box is secured and road-ready, him and Sam stay just a bit on the porch to stare at the house. Because that's what it is, isn't?

'Is papa comin' home?'

There is no home. Not if Steve's missing.

"Steve said you can keep those, if you want," that sentence made Tony hunch his shoulders, releasing that bitter aftertaste in his mouth again, blending with something sweet, and igniting the warmth that pierced as deep as his very marrow. "Nothing he loves or wants back is in those boxes."

Yes, Tony wants to scream. I want to keep the sketchbooks he has for me. I want to keep the photo albums. I want to keep the paint, the charcoal, the brushes. I want to keep the stuffed animals he won me at the fairs. I want to keep his clothes. I want to keep the dances in the living room. I want to keep his love, attention, care, worry, sadness, anger, grief. I want to keep my husband.

Instead, Tony reaches for his back pocket, and squeezes his ring. It burns in his palm, almost begging him to put it back in it's place, or on his finger, where it fitted like it always belonged. His being feels it, as if connected, and he decides to even the odds in the cowardice department.

Sam holds his breath as Tony hands him the ring, with hesitance, with no indication he wants to. "You sure about this?" It's a careful question, painfully gentle, far softer than Tony deserves.

No. Not by a long shot. "Yeah, " he mutters, almost lost in the air. "It's not mine anymore."

Sam curls his hand around the ring, pockets it, and Tony wrestles with the urge to ask for it back. His eyes are trained to the floor, on his shoes, the fine leather ones Steve bought for him on their anniversary, he realizes.

He watches droplets of water splash and dissolve into the concrete. It's raining, he figures, he should take Peter inside or he'll catch a cold. He looks up to watch the dark clouds, and the senine blue above mocks him.

"It's okay, " Rhodey picked a good one, Tony thinks, as Sam covers his crying form away from Peter's eyes. "It's okay, Tony. Just... Let it out. You earned this."

"I tried, " he sobs in Sam's neck, sobs his demise his failure, his bottled cocktail of emotions that waited to implode. "I tried, Sam, I tried so hard, I swear I did."

"We know you did, Tony. We all know."

---

Peter wants to meet Bucky one day.

"Papa used to talk about him all the time, " He says, oblivious to how vexed Tony is hearing that. He apprehends himself, reproaching that he should be over it already. "He sounds pretty cool! I want to see his Terminator arm!"

"It's a Tin Man or Robocop arm, at best, " He smirks at the pout Peter throws his way, smoothing it out with his thumb. "And he's in a hospital. You and I hate hospitals, remember?"

Peter whines and makes his eyes larger, pitifully glassy and sad, just the way to wrap Tony around his little finger. "Daddyyyy, pleeeease!" He hooks his fingers around his arm, hugging it close to his chest and his lower lip trembles.

He imagines Steve behind him, smothering a laugh in his shoulder, egging Peter on like two conspirational buddies. He melts, pushing the rush of yearning back, and knows it's a battle lost. Peter is too lovable, too determined, too bright eyed.

He's morbidly curious, in a way, to see what was so special about Bucky that it made Steve want to trade that.

---

Bucky and Peter hit it off in a heartbeat.

The facility hosting Bucky is uncomfortably pristine, from door corner to ceiling. Everything is tailored and arranged with ridiculous precision, clinical, professional, boring, and detached, as most medical spaces are. His workshop dances circles around it in the personality field, and he tells Bucky as such.

He laughs at him. "That's an interesting way to say you're a chronic untidy mess."

'Chronic untidy hot mess, " Tony corrects, hating how easily he falls into conversation with him. He tells himself it's merely a distraction from the stomach twisting smell of medicine, stingy and sharp smothering the air. "How offensive. I demand a trial by combat. Peter, make him pay in blood!"

Peter turns to Bucky, unblinking. "Your hair's greasy."

A theatrical gasps spreads in the room from the blue eyed brunette. Tony beams, kissing Peter's cheek. "That's my boy. I'm sure Bucky's bleeding a lot on the inside."

"Yeah. You know, where blood usually is, " Bucky snarks, heatless, propping Peter off from the spot on his leg and putting him on the ground . "Why don't you go ask nurse Joy to give you some magnets for the arm? Your father and I gotta talk adult business."

"Uncle Clint says adult business is just gossip for grown ups. " Peter retorts, smirk on his lips, half raising on the edges of his mouth. He got the smugness from him, that much Tony will admit. Bucky huffs a laugh that mirror Tony's own and waits for Peter to be out of the hearing range to say his next words.

"I owe you an apology."

Tony blinks, hastily, and speaks before he can even register what he's saying. "No, you don't. Drop it." It comes off razor sharp, yet Bucky must be used to worse, because he doesn't falter.

"I ruined your marriage. There's no forgiving that, but I DO regret it and you'll damn well listen to what I have to say."

"Look, I appreciate it. I do. I'm not... Mad at you. You're just in the crossfire of this clusterfuck. There's no forgiving because there's nothing to forgive, " he murmurs under his breath, words quiet, but sincere, he realizes. "My failure is my own to carry. "

"Stark, relationships need more than one person. Stevie ain't exactly blameless in this whole thing, - Far from it, trust me, I let him know. He got the scolding of the damn lifetime, because he threw away a damn good thing. He made a home for himself and then demolished it. You didn't hand him the sledgehammer, he picked it up on his own dumb self."

"You know, your philosophy lesson would impact me better with wizard lingo. Throw in a riddle or a prophecy and I might bite. " Receiving a blank stare to his quip, Tony sighed, eyes downcast.

"Look. I called it off, alright? I lit up the matches, I burned down the bridge, and I watched it turn to ash. But it was meant to happen, one way or another. We were just too different. Guys like me break the world apart. Men like Steve put it back together. He'll move forward. Like he always does."

Bucky's reply is instant. "No, no he won't, " it's said with such conviction, with such a finality, that it has Tony freezing. "He'll never move on. Not from this. I've never seen him like that for anybody, hell, never seen ANYONE like that. You and him? That's a forever kind of deal. You don't need a ring and name change for that to last. You don't have a choice."

Tony swallows, slowly, unsure. "So what? We just keep path crossing like fate has us tied together, in each other 's range but standing on parallel lines, never meant to cross? This isn't a fairytale, Barnes. It's real life. And even if it wasn't, that's still far from fair."

"It is real life. Which means it ain't fair, Stark. "

Tony takes Peter home, cuddles him closely as if he might disappear, and eyes the empty area around the right side of the bed with a lonely glint that burns in the darkness.

---

The first time Tony meets Steve after the divorce, it's for Natasha's birthday party.

Time jumps from slow to fast, alters between stagnation and overwhelming in the first 6 months that pass after the finalization of their parting. Some days are agonizingly slow. As if the world wants him to stomach every second, consume every minute, where Steve is not with him, isn't his anymore, and choke on the pain that tastes just as sharply as the first time.

And in some, time goes by in blink record, not keen on giving Tony the courtesy of healing, of moving on, of according him the patience or kindness in adapting his feelings to his pace, to accommodate to the arrangement it dragged him in.

Concern crawls inside him regardless of how many times he buries it, makes a tangly nest right in his chest, and makes no effort to move. He doesn't blame Steve for not wanting to meet him, to look at him, to give him the chance of staring into the bright, baby blue eyes that hold everything beautiful in the world.

Tony's seen the wonders of the world, all 8 them, and they all pale put next to Steve.

He feels seething, scalding guilt showering him for thinking that. Because Steve is not his to worry over, not his to call wonderful, not his to care for. Not anymore. He repeats that like a mantra against his eardrum when Natasha asks him if it's fine if she invites him to her party, too.

It's the perfect excuse to see how he's doing, but Tony elects to ignore that and remind Natasha grown-ass people don't ask other grown-ass people for permission on what to do. "Do I look like Pepper to you? No? Then why would I order you around?"

A discreet smile reaches Natasha's features, exhibiting confidence but betraying relief. She loves them both, Tony knows, and wants her friends first, not the fallen lovers. "Just wanted to know if I should hide the sharp knives or prepare some spare sheets."

His face heats ferociously, climbing all the way to the tips of his ears, and all the embarrassment in the world is worth listening to Natasha laugh. Something sharp-edged inside of him brittles at the prospect of seeing Steve, thought, and he holds his tongue from saying something of that nature won't happen.

In the company of his solitude and shame, Tony wonders later, is he afraid of seeing Steve again because he fears the blonde is not doing okay, or because he is?

Later on, he sees Steve stand in flash before him, chatting with some faceless figures, hair longer than last time and flattened slightly at the nape, sporting a beard that framed his gorgeous face perfectly. The impeccable balance between scruffy and well-groomed. Tony itched to run his fingers against it.

"It's the divorce beard, " Clint muses, elbow jolting Tony in the side to show the humor. "Give him a few more weeks, and you'll see him shopping from the Hobo shop. All wrinkled shirts and ketchup stained clothes or something. Men are useless without their wives.'' He winks in Tony's way, but Tony is too entranced by Steve to acknowledge it.

His fists are bruised, Tony notes with a wince as he gets drunk on Steve's form with a studious gaze, creamy skin battered and laced in a cluster of dark purple, crimson, and small patches of yellow shaping his knucklebones.

A trail of question rests blistering on his tongue. 'What happened? Who did that? Who were you fighting? Why? Are you okay? Did you win?' But he closes his eyes and bites his tongue, knowing these questions don't belong to him anymore.

He gave up his rights to that.

But then, Tony spots them.

His breath is knocked out of his lungs in a silent punch, eardrums pushing out all the sound attempting to penetrate his ears. His fingers loosen so much they almost drop his water, feeling tingly numb. Tony's eyes, large and surprised, trace the circle of gold curled around Steve's fourth finger, gleaming softly against the artificial light around the dining room.

Steve is still wearing his ring.

But then, his chest burns and booms, heart roars fiercely behind his ribcage as he notices the thin string of black leather circling around Steve's neck, loose as a necklace, hanging low enough for Tony to eye the shape of metal halo looped right in the middle of the material.

Steve was wearing Tony's ring, too.

The realization left him petrified in place, more statue than man, in stunned shock as he bore into his former lover who only then noticed the brown eyes looking at him, transparent astonishment clear as crystal in his features.

It's like a spell breaks.

Tony's limbs move mechanically, on autopilot, running to the nearest room, getting himself away from what his body detects as danger. Urgency is packed on his step, taking him to the bathroom in record time, but Steve's always been the runner, more athletic between them, and his sprinting lands him a spot in the sleat Tony wass about to slam.

He's pinned to a wall effective immediately, feels cold tiles plant clammy kisses on the back of his head and neck. Tony almost hisses at the force of the slam, but before he can make a peep, his lips are stolen in a savage, fierce kiss.

It's pure desperation conveyed in the most unconventional way. Steve pounces on him, lips wild against Tony's own, pouring every emotion he went through in the past few months,- Longing, yearning, craving, hunger, desire, - his being, his love, his soul into that kiss, barely giving Tony the chance to breathe.

"St-Steve, " He gasps, head tilting slightly to the side to escape the ministrations, to gulp air, moving to avoid the chase at reconnection Steve is playing at by trying to capture his lips again. "Wait, wait a minute, -"

"Missed you, " Steve's voice is thick with want, hitching in the small puffs of air that came off raggedy and breathless, words melting over Tony's mouth. Steve's face glows with a blush he wants to kiss with inhuman greed. "I missed you, I missed you,Tony I missed you" Tony's fucked.

[sockendrache]

Animal Crossing Fangame-Rambling, idk

Been home from school today and playing ACNH and-

I was already burnt out before but its worse than I remember so watch me ramble about what I’d love to see in an Animal Crossing Game (which would probably make it less animal crossing and more like a stardew valley-animal crossing-cozy grove-bastard child-)

Just-

Give me a tiny city to rule over. I don’t want a big-ass island that I have to plan every inch of and move shit around to fit buildings in and decorate to make it look nice and if I don’t decorate it looks like I’m just a hobo squatting out on an island in the middle of the ocean catching bugs to a fukkn raccoon (cmon tell me that doesn’t sound like the fucking juice Nook gave you at the beginning was a drug)

Like- a mixture of City Folk and New Leaf. You’re a Mayor, you move into a tiny almost-abandoned city in the middle of bumfuck-nowhere, there’s a bunch of closed-down shops around, absolutely nothing’s going on, there’s only like three other villagers living there who are super fucking old and don’t want to sell their houses coz “I raised THIRTY kids in this house, I will NOT be moving out!!!” (in addition to that, give me more old-looking villagers. I want a senior-home filled with old dudes and dudettes like Doby just ranting about today’s youth and giving you terrible dating advice like “Back in my day we just threw bricks with notes glued on at each other” “Please don’t do that”)

And idk-

It’s just a fucking ghost-town when you first move in and the NPCs are all super depressed and don’t even fucking care anymore, Blathers damn-near has a heart attack when you first approach him cause he hasn’t seen a new face around town in forever. And basically- its just your quest to bring this town back to its former glory. Like- you actually have more power as the Mayor, not like in New Leaf where you could only build stuff (that you had to pay for yourself rip)

And at the beginning you can choose the town’s general aesthetic, like, Japanese, cottage, modern, cute, etc etc... and the more qests you get done the more the town gets restored and actually starts to look like this aesthetic. And no more villager-houses with a specific look, instead it’s just general houses that fit the town’s look or small apartments with multiple villagers living in them-

And when searching for a new villager you don’t have to wait for one to randomly move in or go island-hopping or pay a fortune for each one on nookazon, instead you just get like 10 applications every week until the town is full. You can choose one or multiple of them, or none at all and it gets reset the next day.

And give me some QUESTS!!! I love animal crossing so much, but it’s so frustrating to play if you don’t have your own goal set in mind for what you want to do, so you just run around and do nothing? Or is that just me rip

aNyWaYs- like stardew valley, just give me a quest-board where the villagers can ask for stuff or help them out in other ways, like “can someone help me redecorate my house?” or “I need a new look!” or stuff like that, and you can just change the villager’s interior design or give them a new set of clothes (in addition to that, give the villagers pants! are we fukkn disney or why do they only get to wear shirts and no pants)

And the museum has more stuff to donate to? Like, flowers and vegetables or stuff? Idk, just add a new npc that has you collect all kinds of flora and donate (also, rewards for donating!! my monkey-brain needs a REASON to donate and collect stuff. Stardew, it’s the rewards, Cozy Grove, it’s the rewards....) And you get a little garden or green-house and can plant stuff there, and not just flowers but vegetables, and when they’re grown you can donate the plant itself and a once-dead botanic area turns all green!!

aND TOPIC NPCS

Give me some new npcs to love!! Like- maybe give Melinda an assistant? Like, a bat or some other nocturnal animal??? And while Melinda has the day-shifts as your assistant, the Bat has the night-shifts so you can still do mayor-stuff at night and Melinda gets  to have a break every once in a while. And Celeste will help Blathers in the museum again to bring back the stargazing-feature from CIty Folk??

And Timmy and Tommy are now teenagers that run Nook’s Cranny? Like- they’re more relaxed and chill now and don’t chase you around the store anymore, just stand there behind the register looking tired as ever. Maybe even give them little ear-piercings to show they’re rebels now, rip. And they’ll refer to Tom Nook as “Pops” or “Old Man”, and tell some stuff about their childhood when you just talk to them. And one of them could work at Redd’s on the weekend (also Redd, plz give him his own store that opens every weekend).... and Nook can be seen in his store every once in a while. They don’t admit it but Redd and Nook are now in couples’ therapy (Timmy and Tommy forced them and will reference it sometimes)

And pleeeease, give Timmy and Tommy some freetime. Like- Nook runs the store until 12pm until they take over and run it until closing. And on days where the shop is closed they can be seen walking around town and hanging out with the villagers.

And some cutscenes please T__T Like, only for the NPCs on holiday or so, but then you’d get to see Celeste and Blathers sitting in the park to stargaze whenever there’s a meteor-shower, or Melinda, your Player and her assistant sharing some hot cocoa on christmas, the Nooklings wishing Nook a happy father’s day, Nook and Redd going out on Valentine’s day.... Halloween has them all dress up, the Nooklings try to prank you while Nook takes over the store for the day... the Sable-sisters close their shop to go out and show off their handmade costumes.

The villagers already had hobbies in ACNH, like reading and nature or something.... but how about they reference these hobbies, and do stuff thats connected to that, other than staring at flowers and sitting under trees. Like, have them say how they went to their book-club in the next town and how they hate the long drive per train and then they ask you to fix up the library so that the town can have its own book-club? Or sporty villagers will talk about how they went swimming or jogging and got hurt because the old paths are all fucked and there’s no good way to enter/exit the lake, so they ask you to renovate the paths and build a little dock? Idk man, just- give them more personality! SOmething that makes me want to talk to them, not just so I can cross off ‘talking to villagers’ on my to-do-list

idk, a dump where an opposum lives and that teaches you diy-recipes. but instead of giving you cards you get a little clip of the oppossum and your player working at a diy-bench and if you know it already it offers to teach you something new until you learned everything, then it just sends you rare materials in the mail like “hey, thought you’d like this!”

this is all a dream, nintendo cant even give us the cafè, rip.

[thrillsxchills]

{TW} Orion is obviously one of my more demented children and his whole life is a trigger warning, so please avoid reading this if your triggers contain the following -- depression, abandonment, hallucinations, drugs, violence, substances abuse, blood, abuse/mental & physical, bullying, self harm+un-alive thoughts, dissociating. (That’s a lot & i’m sorry but Orion has a HISTORY.)

Orion is my first and oldest baby I’ve had. He’s developed A LOT over the years, but for the new members I’m going to start all the way from the beginning so enjoy this looong ride. People like Z and Ali remember big bad old orion, that was something 😅

(tw; about death)Orion was an odd kid growing up, he had an usual obsession with death and creepy things. Cemetery's, bugs, and the supernatural. It was hard to make friends with other kids because of his unusual interests and the fact that his family was high class and his father wouldn’t let Orion associate himself with ‘poor people’.

(tw: family abuse) Orion hated and still hates his father with a passion. Nothing Orion ever did impressed his father. He rarely took interest in his one and only son. He only seemed to show up to physically abuse Orion over the smallest things. Orion’s only friend as a child was his mother, she was literally his saving grace.

{tw: abandonment/dissociating) Orion’s mother Cora is sweet and angelic like. However from his father's abuse she became numb and seemed to dissociate often. But Orion still took comfort in his mother's arms. Until one day his mother couldn’t take it anymore. While she wanted to take her son with her, she couldn’t. Orion’s dad’s family was the one with all the money. Cora had nothing to her name. If she took Orion he wouldn’t have a home or all the opportunities that money offered. So she left and it took everything she had left to do it.

(tw: abuse) Once Cora left the picture Orion’s fathers abuse only became worse. Taking out his wifes disappearance out on Orion. Screaming at the top of the lungs asking where Cora was. Orion didn’t know, he was just as clueless as his father but he didn’t believe him.

(tw: substance abuse) that’s when Orion started using drinking and smoking as a coping mechanism from a young age. He’d smoke any chance he got hiding the buds in his dresser drawer and his whiskey bottles in the boxes of his old shoes. It was his only escape from his shitty reality and his father.

(tw: reason for living) that all changed when Jakob Skellington came into the picture. They met at school and formed a quick lasting bond. Orion confided all his secrets and hobbies within Jakob and the boy never judged him. Orion finally found a best friend and a reason for staying alive at that point in time. Problem was their families had a long lasting feud over something stupid. So the two were banned from seeing each other. That didn’t stop them however. The two would sneak to each others house in the middle of the night or sneak off to hang out at Hallow Falls cemetery.

(tw: abandonment/bullying) however the friendship didn’t last long as intended. Because Jack was Orion’s only friend he became possessive over their relationship. Especially when Serena & Zeke entered the picture. They were getting to close to Jakob and Orion hated it. He began to loathe the two. So Orion did the only thing he knew how to do which is what he learned from his father. He began to bully Serena and Zeke to the point that Jack had to step in and defend Zeke and Serena. This felt like a betrayal to Orion. So Orion made an ultimatum. It was him or the two friends Jack barely knew. Jack chose them and Orion has held a resentment ever since. Quickly turning to the Teague's and using them to bully Zeke and Serena through them.

(tw: violence/blood/ suicidal thoughts) now entering his high school years Orion felt abandoned. He had no one but himself. Sure he had the Teagues but he felt that friendship was only extended because they did his bidding in exchange for things. Orion began skipping school more, starting fights for the hell of it. A couple of those fights he almost couldn’t walk away from him. Leaving his body beaten and bloodied in the back ally. Tiffani & Hallie nursed him back to health. But that didn’t stop him. He continued to get black out drunk and start fights. He wanted to feel something/and nothing all at the same time. He wanted to die.

(tw: substance abuse /hallucinations) Orion really thought he was going to die, he was drinking so much that he barely hanging onto his acceptance into Walt by a thread. His father kept bribing the school with money to keep him enrolled. He was known to students as the boogie man/feared by most people except a girl named Hallie. She tried to get him to be a better person. Which it didn’t happen all at once, it was slow. But once Orion realized all the people who had been hurt by his actions. his reality soon came crashing down. He began hearing things. like actual voices talking him. telling him that he was worthless, that he couldn’t be anything more than a monster. he could barely sleep without drinking himself to sleep. he even sought out a pastor to see if his soul was worth redeeming. Here is a self para about that time [SELF PARA HERE] Here is another self para about reuniting with his mother and standing up to his father. [READ HERE] read at viewers own discretion.!

(tw: trauma) It took time but he began to heal from his trauma. Does that mean he’s a better man now? Not exactly, but he knows how to control his temper and not to completely act on his impulsive anger issues that were handed down from his father. He’s not bad, but he’s not good either. He’s reunited with his mother and already forgiven her. He didn’t hesitate that was his mom after all. Him and his father only meet up if they have too after having their showdown a couple of years ago, which is how Orion prefers it anyway. Certain things still trigger Orion but for the most part he’s charming as hell but still intimidating as fuck. He only gets his  hands dirty when he needs too.

OKAY! So that’s a lot and that’s the best I can summarize about my boys development over the last six years! Now for some light hearted head canons,yeah? I think I need therapy from writing all that.

(tw: smoking) you will never see Orion without a cigarette in his hand/mouth. from a young age smoking became a comfort. he doesn’t need it as much as he did back then but its more of a security thing now.

he has a lucky lighter he won from a bar fight. it’s a red zippo lighter in the shape of two pieces of dice. Snake eye’s to be exact.

because of his interest in bugs and reptiles he has a black snake tattoo the looks like its wrapped around his forearm. looks something like this [IMAGE HERE] 

Older Orion has a small tattoo on each of his fingers representing his children. A bat for Axel, Nova is a star, Sage for Sage (but looks more like a flower), and the moon for Draco.

Orion enjoys being isolated/alone that’s when he feels most like himself. despite his background Orion does quite  well in social situations. he adapts to new environments easily and can be quite charming if you’re on his good side.

Orion prefers the more expensive liquor since that's what he grew up with but his favorite and comfort drink is whiskey with ice.

When Orion is alone he enjoys reading/learning about new topics. He’s well educated but most people don’t experience that side of him.

he hates the holidays, for obvious reasons. doesn’t mind Halloween though.

he has a hate/love relationship with the Teague siblings. Logan annoys the hell outta of him, Beckham is stand-offish and Sadie is the only one he truly gets along with. But deep down their Orion’s only friends and he appreciates them. Will he tell them that? Not until hell freezes over.

Orion’s zodiac sign is Sagittarius

Orion doesn’t keep up with his casino daily- the assets yes, but the actual place no. However he does show up every once in awhile to cheat people out of their money. What can i say he’s a gamblin man.

.Spoken Word/Singing is Orion’s favorite music genre. he’ll go to the grave denying that but he relates to a lot of the bands like la dispute, hobo johnson, front porch step. But he enjoys most kind of music. His most recently played song is Self Care by Mac Miller. [LISTEN HERE]

Now when it comes to Sadie Teague things are different. She’s the only person that really challenges him. He admires her perseverance and her will to do things on her own. Their relationship is complicated. Friends? Friends with Benefits? But his feelings are starting to get intertwined, but how to express feelings he’s never felt before?

favorite color is red

Vitani also intrigues him/she’s not annoying like regular happy go lucky people. He enjoys her company, maybe he’ll ask if she needs a job at the casino.

[recipeforme]

C10: My Self-Worth's Fragile Like An Egg

Book: A Good Kid

I groaned when I woke up, remembering what happened yesterday. How could I break down like that? Now that they knew I was vulnerable they were going to stop being so nice. I just know it! My only hope was to act like nothing had happened.

I threw on some clothes, slapped on my eye shadow and headed down stairs for some food. I slipped into the kitchen to see Thomas making himself coffee when he saw me he gave me a huge grin.

“Good morning Virgil!” He greeted “how are you?”

I shrugged and opened the cabinet to find some cereal “why are you acting so weird?” Thomas was a pretty cheerful guy but he could be really…. Touchy in the morning when he hadn’t had his coffee yet.

“I’m not acting weird!” He said, still smiling. I gave him a look before moving to the table with my cereal. “Anyways,” Thomas said, grabbing his coffee and sitting down across from me “I wanted to talk to you about last night.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Really?” Thomas turned serious “because you burst into tears last night.”

“I’m fine” I muttered, I could tell Thomas was hesitating to tell me something. “Look, whatever it is just tell me.”

The man took a deep breath “okay well, I signed you up for therapy last night.”

My head shot up “what?!”

He winced “look, I think it would be good for you to talk to someone.”

“No way man! I don’t need some shrink trying to pick my brain apart.”

“Well.” Thomas gave me a look “you’re going.”

I stood up, breakfast abandoned “well, you can’t make me!” My heart rate increased at the thought of seeing a therapist, even more so than denying my guardian.

Thomas looked up at me calmly “actually I can. And I’m sorry if you don’t want to but you’re going. It’s already been paid for. It’s one session, if it doesn’t work then you don’t have to go back. But you do have to go to this session.”

“Fine.”

“Great!” Thomas said “we leave in an hour.” I just huffed and back stormed upstairs.

------

I glared at Thomas from my place on the couch in the therapist’s office, the man rubbed his eyes and sighed. I won’t go into detail but it was a struggle to get me here.

“Look. I know that you don’t want to be here but will you please give it a chance?” He asked, practically begging at this point. I just glared at him silently with my arms crossed. “Fine,” He sighed “well, I’m going to go. I’ll be back in a hour.”

Thomas left and I glared at the wall, in any other situation I would make a run for it but I had a feeling that Thomas was going to sit in the waiting room just to make sure I didn’t. I sighed and looked around the office, which was decorated with toys and posters of Disney and Cartoon characters. Great, he was a children’s therapist. Not only was I going to have my brain picked, I was also going to be downgraded like I was a five year old.

I jumped when a voice said “it’s the moment you've been waiting for!”

My head snapped towards the door as I could see someone’s arm and…. Were they singing a theme song? I didn’t recognize it but it sounded like a theme song. Finishing his ‘intro’ the man walked over and plopped down in his chair. The man had dark(ish) pink hair and glasses. He wore a light blue sweater vest with a long sleeved, pastel, collard, yellow shirt with a light pink tie.

“Hello,” he said, “do you how do?”

“What?”

“Ah well my name is Dr. Picani, and you are?”

“....Virgil… but shouldn’t you know? Cause of paperwork and all that?”

“Yes, but it helps a patient feel more comfortable when they introduce themselves.” I groaned, great it’s been five seconds and he’s already trying to shrink me. “Is everything alright?”

“No.” I declare “I’m not doing this.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Look man, no offence to you or whatever but I didn’t choose to come here. The only reason I am is that Thomas thinks that just because I had a little breakdown last night I’m all of the sudden ‘mentaly unstable’ or whatever.” I said, using air quotes around the words ‘mentaly unstable.’

“Well, alright.” Dr. Picani said “if that’s how you feel. But if you don’t mind me asking. Who’s Thomas?”

I sighed, already annoyed “Thomas is my foster dad.”

“Oh, so you're a foster kid?”

“Yeah,” I raised an eyebrow “you got a problem with that?”

“Not at all. Now before we start I should ask if you have ever been to therapy before?”

I sighed again “let me guess, you are not going to just let me sit here until this is over.”

“No, I’m afraid not.” Dr Picani smiled at me.

“Fine, I’ll answer your questions if you answer one of mine.”

“Of course!” He said “go right ahead.”

“If I share stuff with you are you going to tell Thomas what I said?” I figured that I might as well get this over with. Especially if the guy wasn’t going to leave me be. But if he was going to tell Thomas what I say… then I would much rather keep quiet.

“No, not without your consent.” He said “but if you are hurting yourself or others then I will but if you aren’t then everything said here will be kept private.”

“Fine, I’ve only been to therapy once. About a year ago when my dad went to jail.”

“Really? And how was that?”

“Which one? The therapy or the dad thing?” I asked.

“Therapy” He clarified.

“It sucked.” I said “she didn’t do anything besides tell me that I’m a screw up, which I already knew.”

Picani frowned and wrote something down. “Now, why was your dad arrested?”

I let out a dark chuckle “let’s see… child abuse, neglatance of a child, edangerment of a child… I think there’s a few more in there that I don’t know about.”

“I see… now you don’t have to answer this but I’m guessing you were the one he was abusing?”

I shrugged and looked down “mostly me yeah I mean, I get why.” I pulled the hood of my jacket up and said, “I deserved it.”

“Now hold on, why do you think that?”

“Cause I’m a no good, useless, rotten screw up who will never find love and everyone hates.”

“Hmmm you remind me of Zuko from Avatar: The Last Airbender.”

His words broke me out of my spiralling thoughts and I looked up at him “who and what now?”

“Prince Zuko from the show Avatar: The Last Airbender.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“It is a show about a world that is divided into four nations. The Water Tribe, the Earth Kingdom, the Fire Nation and the Air Nomads. Each of them are represented by an element for which the nation is named.” Picani explained. “Benders have the ability to control and manipulate the element from their nation.”

“Only the Avatar can master of all four elements. The Fire Nation wants to conquer the world but the only bender who has enough power to defeat them, the Avatar, has disappeared. Later in the show two siblings, Katara and Sokka, find the Avatar who is a young airbender named Aang. Aang must now master all four elements in order to stop the war and bring peace to the world.”

“I see… and who’s this Zuko guy?”

“Zuko is one of the main antagonists for a good portion of the show. His sole mission, right from episode one, being to capture Avatar for the sake of the Fire Nation.” The therapist chuckled “and he is always grumpy.”

“Wow, I’m feeling so good about myself at this comparison right now” I said sarcastically.

“Just hang on a Momo, over the episodes, it becomes clear that Zuko is after the Avatar for more than just the sake of the Fire Nation.” He explains “there are moments where Zuko withholds information from and even sabotages the efforts of other members of the Fire Nation. All so he can be the one to hand the Avatar over to his father, Fire Lord Ozai, and regain his honor.”

“Regain his honor?”

“Yeah he ‘lost it’ after speaking out of turn in a meeting. Stating that sacrificing a whole Fire Nation troop as a simple distraction in a battle plan was not a good idea. What an offence, amiright?” He said with a touch of sarcasm “his father punished him by facing him off in combat, burning and permanently scaring his face, and banishing him from the kingdom until he could return home with the Avatar.”

“That uh… sounds like a bad dad.”

“That sounds like an understatement.”

“I’ve never seen the show man, give me a break.” I muttered, my hood falling off. “Look, I don’t understand why you're comparing me to this guy. I mean, yeah my dad hurt me but he never left any scars.”

“While that may be true one thing Zuko struggled with is wanting to make his father proud.” Dr Picani said.

I glared at him “and you think I’m the same. No effing way man, I couldn’t care less about what he thinks!”

“Okay, okay. I apologize, I didn’t mean to offend you.” He said “so you don’t care too much for your father. But what about the rest of your family?”

I sighed “well there was also my mom and older brother. Mom…. died several years ago, I don’t like to talk about it, and Janus…. It's complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

“When we were young Janus and I were pretty close but after mom died and dad started drinking and stuff he started bullying me at school. Dad loved it.” I said the last part under my breath but I knew the doctor heard me say it.

“Well if that’s the case then you’re much more like Zuko than I thought!”

I looked up at him “What? How?”

“Like you Zuko had a sibling who tended to bully him. His younger sister, Azula, she was constantly being praised by their father for her talents while Zuko was pushed aside.” Dr Picani said “tell me, how did your mother treat you?”

“Um… it’s been a while since.. You know.. But she was amazing.” I let a small smile fall unto my lips “sometimes it feels like she was the only one who actually cared about me. And now, no one does.”

“Well, I’m sure that is not true. After all, your foster father brought you here. Don’t you think that’s a sign that he cares for you?”

I hesitated, a month ago I would have said no. That Thomas was just trying to make himself look good by taking in some helpless foster kid. But… I have had foster parents who were like that, even if they were trying to make themselves look good they would still give me up around the three week to one month mark. “I don’t know.” I admitted, looking down in shame and a little bit of panic. If Thomas wasn’t using me for some kind of personal gain, then why did he take me in?

“Now, I know that you said you don’t care about what your father thinks.” Dr Picani said “but do you think that you still judge yourself based on what he thinks of you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you mentioned earlier that you thought yourself to be a screw up. Is that something that your father ever said to you?”

As I thought it over I realized it was true and I nodded “among other things.”

Dr Picani wrote something down and began to talk about this Zuko character again “one of the main issues Zuko had trouble with was that he believed his father that he was the only one that could give Zuko his honor back.” He said

“And that gave him a lot of problems with his self worth. But if he had realized sooner that worth didn’t stem on what his father thought of him. If only he learned to trust the words of his mother who he lost when he was a child or the words of his loving uncle, who was always there for him. Then maybe it would have saved him a lot of internal struggle.”

“Did he ever get better?” I asked. Despite not wanting to come, here this man compared me to a fictional character that was in a similar situation to me… helped.

“Yes. He did.” Picani said “but he didn’t get there alone, it was through the efforts of his uncle that he was truly able to start a new path for himself.”

“But I don’t have anyone like that.” I said.

“What about your foster dad, Thomas? From what it sounds like he’s truly trying to help you in whatever way he can.”

“I don’t know… It’s… hard to trust people. Especially adults” I explained.

“Well, is there anyone else you can think of that you can go too?” Picani asked.

“Well, I mean, there’s my foster brother, Patton.” I said “I don’t really trust him a whole lot yet… but I guess I can try.”

“That’s great! Finding people you can rely on is always a good thing.”

-----

After the session finished I walked out to the waiting room where Thomas was sitting on his phone. When he entered he looked up and stood as I walked over to him.

“How was it?” He asked.

“It was nice…” I looked down “thanks.”

I didn’t need to look at him to tell that Thomas was smiling “you’re welcome.” He hesitated “if you want I can sign you up for another session.”

I paused, an hour ago I would have said no… but Thomas was right. It had been nice to talk to someone. Even if he were a little strange.

I looked at Thomas. “Okay.”

[sachigram]

Infinity, With Coffee Rings Chapter 5

((click here to read on ao3!!))

Craig frowns down at his phone, thinking to himself it's very unlike Tweek to not respond for so long, especially when Tweek was mentioning before how slow things are at the shop. Craig is certain Tweek is just depressed about his parents, thinking he did something wrong by having fun for once, and Craig hates it, hates that Tweek feels guilty for trying to be...normal.

Craig really fucking dislikes Tweek's parents.

“Still nothing?” Token asks. They're hanging out at Clyde's place until it's time to go pick up Tweek from the coffee shop.

“No,” Craig says, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“Maybe he got busy,” Clyde says. He's lounging on the couch, his head in Bebe's lap, and his feet in Token's. Craig is sitting in the armchair by the window.

“I don't think so. I think he's probably spiraling or something,” Craig says. He continues when the others just look at him. “His parents treat him like a child. It's just annoying, and he actually believes the shit they say.”

“Well,” Bebe says softly, “Tweek has always had...a lot of issues. It's possible his parents just think they're doing the right thing.”

“Yeah, but like— At what point does it stop being sheltering and more along the lines of abuse?” Craig asks. “They're telling him stuff like he'll never have another job and can't just hang out with his friends like other people do. They didn't even want him to have a guinea pig because they've told him repeatedly he'd kill it.”

“That does seem extreme,” Token says.

“Right? I mean, I'm not saying I understand all the shit Tweek's been through, especially since he won't tell me, but that's just messed up. Parents aren't supposed to tell you all the stuff you can't do.”

Clyde hums and reaches up, poking Bebe in the cheek. She looks down at him, amused.

“Yes, dear?” she asks.

“Craig has a crush,” Clyde says gleefully. “I'm thriving.”

“Shut up,” Craig says.

“I think it's cute,” Bebe says, smiling over at Craig. “You've always had a soft spot for Tweek, and it sounds like Tweek needs someone to have a soft spot for him. Maybe no one else looks out for him.”

“Tweek always was by himself a lot. And the times we went to his house as kids, his parents would try to reinforce that Tweek wasn't normal. Remember? They'd always pull us off to the side and tell us he had ADHD and anxiety and all kinds of stuff. We were eight years old. There was no reason to tell us that,” Token says, and Craig nods.

“Exactly. It's just got me feeling pissed off.”

“We'll spend the night cheering up your boy, Craig, you can rest your pretty head,” Clyde says, and Craig snorts before he can help it. “Imagine what Tweek will be like high. I can't fucking wait.”

“Are you sure it's a good idea to let him smoke?” Bebe asks, and she looks apologetic when Craig gives her a look. “I'm not saying it to treat him like a baby! It's just, what if it makes his anxiety worse? It makes mine worse.”

“I don't think Tweek could get much worse,” Clyde assures her. “We'll give him tiny puffs and let him build up to it. He doesn't have to go in doing bong rips right off the bat.”

“We don't have a bong,” Bebe says.

“You know what I mean!”

“I think it'll be fine,” Token says. “If he freaks out, we'll just calm him down the way we calmed Clyde down that one time.”

“I had edibles,” Clyde says. “Edibles are way different.”

“Oh, god,” Bebe says, laughing. “He hid in the bathtub and started crying about how his parents were coming to kill him for doing drugs.”

“It was plausible!” Clyde defends.

“And we sang to him. Somehow it worked.” Craig laughs at the memory. They were all stoned as shit, trying to think of calming tunes. They ended up singing Lady Gaga, and by the end of it, Clyde was blubbering along to the lyrics of “Summer Boy”.

Craig's phone vibrates, and he hurriedly checks it, ignoring the looks from his friends.

“Is it your boyfriend?” Clyde asks, and Craig reaches behind himself, grabs the pillow, throws it at Clyde. It hits him in the face.

Tweek sent a picture of latte art. It looks like a cute animal's face in the foam, and the caption says, I drew Espresso in the espresso.

Nice. Craig sends. He waits a moment, decides, fuck it, and sends, You okay?

Yeah, closing up soon if you wanna go ahead and drop by.

Craig stands. “I'm gonna go get Tweek.”

“Give him a kiss from all of us,” Clyde says.

“I'll use the technique your mom taught me,” Craig retorts, and Token and Bebe laugh while Clyde scowls.

***

Tweek is busy sweeping the floor when Craig arrives. He grins up at Craig, looking as excited as he does every time he sees Craig, and Craig finds it endearing as hell, if not a little confusing that someone could be so happy to see him of all people. At the same time, he always feels a sense of calm when he sees Tweek. Part of him still expects Tweek to vanish when they aren't together, like all of this is some fever dream on his part. He thinks he'd be even more devastated than the last time. Tweek is part of his routine now, and if he was gone, Craig would miss him like a lost limb.

“Hey, Tweeks-McGeeks,” Craig says, stepping over to him.

“Gross. Never call me that again,” Tweek says, shoving him. “And back up before you step in my dirt pile!”

“Ugh, I just got here, and you're bossing me around. What am I, your errand boy?” Craig asks woefully, flopping in a chair. Tweek smirks.

“Maybe.”

“I'm so mistreated. One day, I'll leave South Park forever, and then you'll all be sorry,” Craig says, feeling accomplished when Tweek snorts. “Do you need help with anything?”

“Nah, just gotta finish this up and then mop. It won't take long.”

“It'd take less time if you let me mop,” Craig says.

“No way! Just hang out there and I'll be done in like, five minutes, tops!”

“Eaughhhh...” Craig sinks into the chair, stretching his legs out in front of him and making it a point to look as uncomfortable as possible. He's halfway into the floor when Tweek sets a muffin down in front of him.

“Here, eat that, and shut up,” Tweek says. Craig sits up and breaks off a piece of the muffin.

“Don't all the baked goods here kind of...suck?” he asks. Tweek watches him pop the piece in his mouth, and then Tweek's expression is extremely pleased when Craig ogles the muffin in surprise and takes a proper bite.

“The food only sucks when my dad makes it,” Tweek says smugly. “I got bored and made a few extra muffins a while ago. I figured I'd take them to Clyde, smuggle them somehow so Bebe won't know.”

“Fuck,” Craig says. “Clyde's gonna love you more than me.” He eats the muffin and watches Tweek, carefully avoiding dropping any crumbs onto the floor or the table. “So your parents left already?”

“Yeah. They don't close very often. Mom never works at all, actually, but she was here today for some reason.” Tweek dumps out the dustpan into the trash and goes behind the counter, into a small closet. He emerges with a mop and mop bucket. “Dad's on more pills than me, if you can believe it, so he's not one to stay up late.”

“It's like, ten,” Craig says, and Tweek shrugs before pushing the bucket towards a sink.

“Late for him. And I don't sleep much anyway.” Tweek begins the process of filling up a sanitizer bucket with water and then dumping it into the mop bucket. He sees Craig watching and grins sheepishly. “The mop sink is so slow. I promise this is the faster way.”

“I wasn't judging,” Craig says. “So, your mom was here, and they both just jumped you when you came back?”

“Not like— Not jumped,” Tweek mutters. He twitches a bit, and his free hand starts tapping at his thigh while he drops some soap into the bucket. “They just say stuff, and then I feel bad, and then I wonder why the fuck I feel bad. It's so grade-school, and I hate that it bothers me.”

“What'd they say? Just that it was busy?” Craig asks, and Tweek glances at him dubiously. “Look, man, I'm practically a licensed family counselor. In case you forgot, my family cusses each other out daily. I can help you see all the underlying aggression in the passiveness for sure.”

Tweek sighs and wheels the bucket around as he starts mopping. “Just, you know, that it was super busy, and I wasn't here, so...” He grumbles. “But I checked the sales and it wasn't busy at all. I've sold like three drinks since I got here. And my mom never works anymore, so I feel like it was a huge thing they planned just to make me feel bad about going out.”

“Do they do that a lot?” Craig asks. “Guilt trip you, I mean.”

“I never go out!” Tweek practically yelps, and Craig lifts his feet when Tweek passes by with the mop. “The only times I do anything except work and therapy are when you're here! But even that's this huge thing with them. God forbid I have any fucking—ngh—“ Tweek stops, puts his fingers to the bridge of his nose and squeezes as he takes a deep breath. “I'm just reading too much into it.”

“You're allowed to be upset. It sounds like they expect a lot from you.” Craig doesn't like seeing Tweek get so worked up, especially when he's clearly embarrassed that his twitching is showing more. The twitching has never bothered Craig, but Tweek acts like it's a landmine, something to be avoided at all costs.

“They don't, really,” Tweek mutters, continuing to mop. “Not the things normal parents expect, at least, cause I'm not a normal person. They just want me around all the time, and I don't mind it so much, but. I haven't seen any of you in so long. I don't see how it could hurt anything, me having friends sometimes.”

“Normal jobs give you off days,” Craig says. “It's kind of a requirement.”

“Yeah, I know, but this is a family business, and there's only three of us.”

“You work every day, every shift, from what I've seen.” Craig wads up the muffin wrapper.

“It was just the two of them for a long time,” Tweek says, and then he pushes the mop bucket back into the room behind the counter. Craig sighs, wondering how long the Tweaks are going to use that as a reason to justify Tweek working all the time. Sure, they've earned a vacation, but it's been more than long enough.

Tweek emerges with his coat on, and he puts a scarf around his neck. “Do you mind stopping by my place?” he asks. “I just don't know how long we're gonna be out, and I usually feed Espresso after work, so—“

“Tweek, relax,” Craig says, standing. He grins and ruffles Tweek's hair, pleased that Tweek has worked out such a strict schedule for his pet. “South Park is tiny as fuck. Everything is on the way to everywhere. I don't mind stopping.”

Tweek visibly deflates and nods, though he still looks a little high-strung. Well. More high-strung than usual. Tweek turns the lights off and locks the door behind them, and then they're on their way.

***

The lights are off at Tweek's house. It's quiet inside, and Tweek clearly wasn't joking about his parents going to bed early. They walk up the stairs, Tweek using his phone as a flashlight, and when they're inside Tweek's room, he turns the light on.

“This'll just take a second!” Tweek says, moving to the cage in the corner. He frees Espresso before nuzzling the little ball of fuzz and handing him to Craig. “Can you play with him while I get his food ready?”

“Sure thing,” Craig says, using his finger to pet Espresso. It's no secret to anyone that knows him that guinea pigs are his weakness. Tweek is becoming an equal weakness, but Craig hasn't quite worked out why just yet.

“Oh, wow,” Tweek says after a few moments, and Craig looks up at him. “He really likes you. He likes you more than me! Okay, not allowed, give him back.”

“No way. It's not my fault your son wants to elope with me,” Craig says, flopping onto Tweek's bed. “You'll learn to love again.”

Tweek sits beside Craig on the bed, reaching to pet Espresso, his fingers bumping into Craig's. It's quiet for a little bit, and then Tweek speaks again.

“Sorry for unloading all that garbage on you. I know it's dumb, but. Thanks for listening.”

“You listened to me,” Craig reminds him, and Tweek sighs.

“Yeah, but you have real, grown-up problems. We're close to thirty, dude. I shouldn't care so much about what my parents think.”

“I think parental shit is kind of ageless. Also, you're worried about work, and that's totally a grown-up concern.”

Tweek snorts softly. “You're so nice to me. You've always been nice, even if everyone else said you were a dick. Well, I guess you're a dick too, but not in a bad way.”

“Never forget our fist fight, Tweek. I can beat you up again if it makes you feel like more a man,” Craig says, and Tweek laughs.

“Whatever! There was no winner! Besides, we were eight. I think all the kids fought each other back then. There wasn't much else to do.” Tweek gently takes Espresso and stands, moving to the cage and putting Espresso by his food bowl. He closes the cage and turns back to Craig. “Ready?” he asks.

***

Everyone is still lounging exactly where Craig left them when they return back to Clyde's. They look up from the TV and greet Tweek, who fidgets and waves, his side pressed to Craig's.

“Jesus. Could you guys get any lazier?” Craig asks.

“I moved a bit,” Clyde says. “I had to pee at one point.”

“I ordered pizza,” Token says. “I got you a veggie pizza, Tweek. And cheese bread, too.”

“I got wings, because real men eat meat,” Clyde adds.

“It's sweet that you ordered wings just for Craig and Token,” Tweek says, shrugging his jacket off, and Craig laughs so hard he almost falls over.

“Hey, fuck off, no weed for Tweek!” Clyde says, sitting up. He holds up a poorly wrapped joint and waves it in the air. “We gotta smoke first, cause then the food will be better.”

“Don't you love how Clyde still treats it like this big illegal thing when we literally went to a store today and bought it with a debit card?” Token asks fondly, and Clyde huffs at him.

“No weed for Token either! More for me and my real friends.”

“I'm not smoking,” Bebe says. “It just makes me super hungry, and I eat enough as it is.”

“Wow, okay, you and me, Craig. Oh, wait. You'll just shotgun it to your little friend, won't you?” Clyde asks deviously, and Craig glares at him.

“New plan, why don't we beat Clyde up and smoke without him?” Craig asks at the same time Tweek says, “What's shotgun mean?”

“Hurry up and pass it, man, I'm starving,” Token says, and Bebe gets up to bring all the boxes of food into the living room.

“Okay, so, Tweek,” Clyde says after he exhales and passes the joint to Token, “what you do is inhale and hold it in your lungs for as long as you can. That's how you get high.”

“I've never smoked anything in my life,” Tweek says nervously. “If any of you laugh at me, I'm just— I'm gonna throw punches.”

“That's acceptable,” Craig says, taking the joint from Token. “Jesus, Clyde, did you roll this? It looks obese. There's too much in the middle.”

“Fuck off, it's been a long time!” Clyde snaps. He takes a piece of pizza from Bebe, and Craig suddenly remembers the little case of muffins in his car. He'll have to smuggle them in for Clyde later. He holds the lighter to the end of the joint and inhales, aware Tweek is watching with rapt attention. Craig coughs when he exhales, tears in his eyes.

“I got— I got the fucking fat part, because Clyde sucks—“ Craig gripes between coughs. Everyone else laughs at him.

“If you're coughing, I'm gonna die,” Tweek says, very seriously.

“No one's ever died from weed, Tweek. You'll be fine,” Bebe says sweetly. Tweek looks at her anxiously, and then at Craig when Craig passes him the joint.

“Here, I'll light it for you. Just focus on inhaling.” Craig lets Tweek's trembling fingers wrap around the joint, and then Craig carefully holds the lighter up while Tweek inhales timidly. “Okay,” Craig says when Tweek pulls back, “now just hold it as long as you can.”

Clyde fishes in one of the other boxes and passes out a slice of veggie pizza to Craig, who holds it for Tweek. Tweek looks very focused on holding in his smoke, and he passes the joint back to Clyde before he exhales with a sharp cough.

“Hey, you did better than I thought you would,” Clyde says, taking the joint back.

Craig puts his hand on Tweek's back and rubs until Tweek sits up straight, his coughs ceasing gradually.

“That burns,” Tweek hisses. He takes the pizza from Craig.

“Yeah, but it's worth it. Just wait a while,” Craig says, stealing a meat-lover's slice from Clyde, who swats him.

They take turns passing the joint, and Craig takes over when Clyde begins rolling another one.

“You've lost privileges,” Craig says. He looks over at Tweek, who is nibbling pizza crust. “You might wanna wait before you get another slice. Eating makes the high go away. You wanna wait until you're toasted, and then the food will be great.”

“Okay,” Tweek says easily, still nibbling. “I want soda.”

“Oh, hang on!” Bebe says, getting up. “I bought Sprite.”

“I wanted Dr. Pepper,” Clyde mumbles, and she kisses his head.

“Too much sugar. You're lucky you didn't get La Croix.”

“I like La Croix!” Tweek says, and Clyde points at him.

“That's it. That's the last straw,” Clyde says, and Tweek pouts.

“Look, I get it, it's not sweet, and it kind of tastes like death, but it's bubbly!” Tweek argues, and then he flops into Craig's side. “What do you think?”

“Sorry, I can't defend La Croix,” Craig says, and Tweek grumbles before climbing over him, to Token's side.

“What about you?” Tweek asks, and Token laughs.

“I don't hate it,” Token says, and Tweek wiggles under Token's arm before sticking his tongue out at Craig.

“Someone here has taste!” Tweek says, and Clyde cackles while Craig grins and finishes up with his meticulous joint-rolling.

Bebe returns with cans of Sprite, and they pass around the new joint, which even Tweek says is much easier to smoke. Clyde pouts for all of a minute before he paws at Bebe.

“I want something sweet,” he whines, and she rolls her eyes.

“You have pizza! I asked if you wanted dessert, and you said no!” Bebe says, and Clyde whines more.

“I thought it was a trap! You never let me have sweet stuff!”

“Well. You're getting too thin,” Bebe says, and her eyes are sad. Craig is about to try and make a joke when Tweek jumps to his feet.

“Oh, my god. Oh, my god, okay, Craig, give me your keys,” Tweek says, holding out his hand, and Craig grins before reaching in his pocket and giving Tweek his car keys. Tweek runs out quickly, no coat, and all of them look at the open door.

“Uh?” Clyde points at the door. “The fuck?”

“Tweek got you a present,” Craig says, leaning back and hogging the joint since everyone else is distracted. “I was gonna smuggle it to you later, but apparently Bebe is being generous on the junk food.”

Tweek returns, jumping around for warmth while he closes the door. He holds the container out for Clyde, shivering in place while doing so.

“I m-m-made you...m-muffins!” Tweek says, and Clyde legitimately looks like he might cry.

“You made these for me?” Clyde asks, taking the little container like it's a sacred artifact.

“You like them! You get them—sometimes. Sometimes, you used to get them,” Tweek says, remembering Bebe is in the room. “You'll wanna heat them up first. I made a variety since I didn't know what you liked for sure.”

“That's so sweet, Tweek,” Bebe says, touched. “Do you mind if I try one?”

“Of course not! Dude, I make so many of these things. Seriously, just ask. I'm supposed to throw them away after a couple of days.”

Tweek rounds the couch and sits next to Craig, huddling against him for warmth and handing his keys back.

“Token's over there,” Craig teases.

“You're warmer. No offense, Token,” Tweek says.

“I'm so high,” Token says, leaning back into the couch, and there's a pause before everyone laughs.

“I feel fine!” Tweek says. “I'm just...warm. And happy? And everything is like. Everything is just really good?”

“Tweek is also very high,” Craig says, and he kisses the top of Tweek's head without thinking anything of it. No one says anything, though Clyde looks smug, and Bebe and Token grin. Tweek melts more into Craig's side, unfazed.

“Maybe I am high. That's okay, though,” Tweek says, and then he looks up at Craig. “Are we high enough to eat?”

Craig laughs. He doesn't think he's laughed so much in a long time. “Dude, if you're hungry, eat. You can always smoke more later, if you want.”

Tweek gets another slice of pizza before huddling back against Craig, who doesn't mind the additional warmth. Tweek has always smelled like coffee, and though Craig isn't a huge fan of coffee itself, he admires the scent.

“Tweek, are you cold? I can get you a blanket,” Bebe says, and Tweek shakes his head.

“I'm fine.”

Clyde opens his mouth, and Bebe slaps a hand over it before giving him a threatening look. Craig doesn't mind the jokes, truthfully. He can see why they would say it's a crush. Tweek used to be a part of Craig's everyday, and then suddenly, he wasn't anymore. Part of Craig is scared to get used to Tweek's presence again, but the rest of him knows it's inevitable. They were inseparable before, and it really seems like they might be again, even with years of being apart.

“You guys know what I miss?” Tweek asks, and Craig realizes he was zoning out.

“What?” Token asks. He's melted against Clyde's side, Bebe on Clyde's other side.

“Stark's Pond,” Tweek says, and he grins when everyone gives him an incredulous look. “What? It's weird, okay, the stuff you think of when you're—gone. We had great times there.”

“Where did you go, anyway?” Clyde asks. Craig feels Tweek sigh.

“I'll tell you if you drive me to Stark's Pond,” Tweek says at last.

“It's freezing outside,” Clyde argues. “Are you crazy?”

“Yeah. Certifiably, in case you forgot,” Tweek says, and he shows off his perfect teeth in another smile. “C'mon, when's the last time you guys did anything fun at night?”

“Please don't tell me you want to ice skate,” Token says.

“Nah, I don't have any skates. I just want to see it? Maybe walk around a bit. I haven't gone since I've been back,” Tweek admits, and Craig has to acknowledge how piqued his curiosity is about where Tweek's been. Clyde looks up at Bebe and touches her cheek.

“You're the sober one here,” he says. “What do you think?”

“Tweek made us muffins,” Bebe says. “I can drive fifteen minutes up the road if he wants.”

“Ugh, so I have to move. Okay.” Token sits up and then stands, gives them all a sour expression. “Look at you guys. Who am I supposed to cuddle up with, huh?”

“Me,” Clyde, Tweek, and Craig all say at the same time. Bebe just giggles.

***

The ride to the pond is short. Clyde rides up front with Bebe, and Craig piles with Tweek and Token in the back, Tweek in the middle because he's the smallest. Craig smokes a cigarette out the window, pleased when Tweek curls into him again for warmth. Clyde plays bullshit on the radio, because of course he does. Craig will coerce Bebe to change the playlist on the way back. They pass the joint around again, and Craig is ecstatic by how blasted Tweek is. He doesn't want Tweek to be paranoid or anything else, just wants Tweek to feel included and happy, which Tweek definitely seems to be.

“Here we are!” Clyde announces. “Scenic Stark's Pond. Shitty ass ice hole in the ground. Are you happy, Tweekers?”

“Yes,” Tweek says, sitting up and looking out the window. “Wow, it looks smaller. Did it get smaller?”

“Nope. We got bigger,” Clyde says, and he snatches the joint back to himself.

“Remember the races we used to have?” Token asks, leaning over Tweek to look. “Us versus Stan and them. Tweek was always the fastest, so we put him against Kyle.”

“Kyle runs off of spite and hatred,” Craig says. “Putting him against the most caffeinated person made sense.”

“Kyle is very level-headed, actually,” Bebe says, turning to look at them in the backseat. “We have brunch sometimes.”

“Bebe is showing us all how sober she is,” Clyde adds, giving her a look. “Only sober people could say Kyle is level-headed.”

“He grew up!” Bebe argues. “Besides, sometimes Stan comes, too. We drink mimosas and talk about politics.”

“Sounds like them,” Craig says. “Always involved in shit.”

“I want a mimosa now,” Bebe says woefully, and Clyde pats her head.

“You can drink when we get home! You're off tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, but now I just want to sleep. When did we get old?” Bebe asks, and Clyde laughs.

“I dunno, babe. I ask myself that a lot.” Clyde turns abruptly when the backdoor opens, and they all shout when Tweek climbs over Craig, into the cold night air.

“I just wanna get closer!” Tweek says, sprinting towards the pond. The rest of them curse before following after him.

“What does he expect to see here besides ice and maybe a deranged hobo?” Clyde asks, shuffling behind Craig.

“Maybe this place is a good memory for him,” Token says. “Good memories are hard to come by in a place like South Park.”

“Understatement of the fucking century.” Craig snorts, and when they reach Tweek, he tugs Tweek backwards by his collar.

“Gah!” Tweek yelps, and then he turns, rubbing at his arms, a pout on his face. “It really is just an ice hole in the ground.”

“Duh. What'd you expect?” Clyde grumbles.

“I don't guess I expected anything, really,” Tweek says. He sighs softly. “I still like it here. It's quiet. You guys remember when all the adults in town used to say shit about South Park being a quiet mountain town where they could raise their kids? I always thought that was so stupid. It was never quiet here at all. But Stark's was.” Tweek shivers a bit, and both Craig and Clyde huddle with him, so then Bebe and Token do, too.

“Yeah, it's even crazier out in Denver. Not many quiet places like this in the city, not without a drive,” Token says.

“I can't believe you guys got out,” Clyde mutters. “I don't think I'll ever get out of South Park.”

“Sure we will,” Bebe says. “There's just more important things to worry about right now, but we will.”

“Besides, we didn't get too far,” Craig says. “We come here often enough to still be in the gravitational pull.”

“Yeah, I guess so. And Tweek came back.” Clyde swats Tweek's arm. “So where'd you go, you fucker? You promised to say.”

“The psych ward,” Tweek says, and Clyde snorts.

“Okay, but really,” Clyde says and then there's a pause.

“Oh, Tweek,” Bebe says, moving closer to him. “You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.”

“It's no big deal,” Tweek says. “I wasn't there the whole time, just a week or so. And I guess they call it something different for kids, but it was technically a psych ward in its own way. Some of the others got offended when you called it that, but not calling it that was just pretending. At least to me.” Tweek twitches, and Craig instantly can tell the difference between that and his shivering.

“Fuck, sorry. I didn't mean to be an asshole,” Clyde says.

“That's not why you're an asshole,” Tweek replies, and then he laughs. “You guys were the only ones who never treated me like I was crazy. Like, you picked on me, but if you didn't pick on me, I would've felt even more left out. You still included me in stuff, and that meant a lot to me. But everything else just really sucked.”

Craig thinks back to when they were kids. Tweek never mentioned anything at all. Craig definitely would have listened, even if he wouldn't have understood. He would have tried to, and he would have been there for Tweek, if nothing else.

“I was just really tired, and I was tired of being tired, and then there just weren't even consequences anymore? I just took a bunch of pills all the time, so I didn't see the harm in taking more, and then I had to get my stomach pumped and it was this whole fucking—thing. They kept saying I was suicidal and I didn't even really understand what that meant, and my parents were really out of it, so I went to live with my grandparents. It wasn't anything super secret. I don't know why my parents wouldn't have told you I just moved,” Tweek says, and he shrugs a bit. “My grandpa died a few years back, and my grandma died recently, so I moved back here.”

No one says anything. Craig thinks they're all trying to retain this information while being high as shit, and Bebe probably just doesn't know what to say. Craig knows Tweek wouldn't want pity, and he wouldn't want to think he was ruining everyone's good time, even if no one else is thinking that.

“How anticlimactic,” Craig says, and they all look at him. “I thought you got kidnapped by spies or something.”

“Nope. Just crazy,” Tweek says, and he looks grateful for the lightening of the atmosphere.

“They could have at least passed on our letters,” Token says. “We wrote you.”

“I know. I didn't know back then, but when I came home, they had all the letters in a box in my room. It's not... I mean, my parents aren't bad people. They just mentally checked out a long time ago, and then they chose to sedate themselves. They're not even on this planet half the time. I don't think they really wanted a kid, and then they had me, so they just convinced themselves all this shit was wrong with me even if it's not. And then somewhere I just really did become crazy because everyone treated me that way.” Tweek shuffles on his feet, and then he grumbles softly. “Wow, being high makes me really talkative.”

“That's okay. Being high makes me shut the fuck up,” Craig says, and they all laugh. Craig doesn't like that Tweek thinks of himself as crazy, but Craig also knows trying to convince Tweek of anything else will take time and patience, not words. Luckily, Craig has plenty of time and patience. He doesn't want Tweek to disappear again, not when things feel like they're finally going back to normal.

Well, as normal as things can ever be in this town.

“Can we get back in the car?” Clyde asks after a few quiet moments. “My ass is frozen.”

“Want me to rub it for you?” Craig offers.

“That's what Bebe is for.”

“Sorry, my hands are frozen,” Bebe says. “It'll have to be Craig.”

“I'll take one for the team,” Craig says solemnly. “It was a lot more fun when Clyde had an ass. I'll touch where his ass used to be.”

“Fuck you,” Clyde huffs, and they hurry back to the car, which thankfully, is still warm.

“Okay,” Craig says once they're seated. He leans forward and swipes at Clyde's phone, but Clyde recoils. “Your music sucks, dude, let me pick.”

“No! Passenger picks the music!” Clyde yelps, dodging more of Craig's swipes. “Bebe! Tell him!”

“I'll fight you for the passenger seat,” Craig says, and he makes to climb over, but Token pulls him back, laughing.

“Your ass is in my face,” Token says, and Craig makes a kissy face at him.

“Yeah, fuck off, Craig. I'm gonna play some nostalgia,” Clyde says, scrolling through his phone, and Craig groans, dreading to think of what Clyde will torture them with.

A familiar tune fills the car as Bebe pulls away from Stark's, and Craig laughs at the same time Token and Bebe do.

“Oh, my god,” Token says, and Craig meets Tweek's eyes, is happy to see Tweek smiling.

“MCR is back together,” Clyde informs them, turning in his seat to face them while his hand turns up the song. “Big things are happening.”

“MCR sucks,” Craig says, but that doesn't stop him from belting out the words to “Famous Last Words” like it's his personal power ballad. Everyone sings along, though it's more like shouting, especially after the second verse starts. Tweek is laughing so hard he's crying, though he's shouting along with them. Craig remembers when this CD came out, and they would all listen to it together, Craig hating on it the entire time. It seems like ages ago when they were that small, Stark's Pond seemingly huge in comparison. Their whole lives were ahead of them.

Things are different now, so different, but Craig doesn't hate all the changes. In fact, he likes some of them a lot, but it never hurts to go back and be a kid again, if only for a little while. It's true when people say you can't go home again, but that's only if you think of home as a place.

Clyde goes on to play “The Thong Song”. He pretends he's holding a microphone, closing his eyes as he screams, “She had dumps like a truck, truck, truck!” Craig does his best to tune it out, tries putting his foot on Clyde, but of course Clyde screeches like a little bitch, so Craig gives up and turns to Tweek instead.

“You good?” he asks, though he knows Tweek is, because Tweek is still smiling, and his eyes are bright even in the darkness of the car.

“Yeah,” Tweek says, nodding. He blinks in surprise when Craig's hand wraps around his, but Tweek doesn't pull away, and he gives Craig a shy smile. Craig thinks again of good changes already happening, and maybe better things yet to come, and he hopes years from now, they'll all look back on this night and laugh.

[myhockeyworld87]

Nervous Regrets - Tyler Seguin - Part 5

Requested: No

Word Count: 2838

Warning: Not really anything, maybe cursing at this point I think I at least use one swear word in if not more..haha

POV: Tyler

Notes: The next couple pieces are a bit fluffy. Currently working on Part 7, Part 6 will be up later this week. Also interested in maybe working on another piece, if anyone has any recommendations.

You were going to be a dad; it was the first thought that popped into your head as you opened your eyes. Though why that surprised you, you can’t be certain; as it was the last one you had before you fell asleep. What had transpired last evening was like something out of a movie. Never in a million years had you expected (Y/N) to tell you she was pregnant! That she loved you, you hoped; that you should go to hell was more likely. But never that she was carrying your baby.

It was crazy how when you heard the news; all the doubts you had about being a good father, good husband had just vanished out the window. When she uttered those words all you could think about was; is she ok, is the baby ok, only their well-being mattered. In that moment you realized that your passion for hockey waned in comparison to your need to protect them, care for them, and most of all love them. If you could have only known this three months ago. There was no changing the past now; you needed to work towards the future, a future with (Y/N) and your unborn child.

 That meant getting your ass out of bed, going to morning skate and start playing like you deserved the eight-year contract you just signed. With renewed hope, you hauled yourself to the kitchen to feed the dogs and yourself. Making yourself a healthy breakfast you caught yourself singing along to the radio playing in the background. It was the first time in months you’d actually felt alive.

 Entering the arena, a tad late, you bolted onto the ice; whizzing around getting your skating legs underneath you. The drills that had only just days ago seem mundane and useless, now skated with renewed precision. Working with your line; passes were crisper, shots perfectly placed. Taking aim at the net, you brought your stick back, cracking the puck and letting it soar past Bishop, into the net. God it felt good. “That a boy, Seggy,” Monty finally being able to cheer you on. The hour flew by, faster than when you were five-years-old; thinking it had only been ten minutes. You were last off the ice, taking a few extra practice shots before heading into the locker room. By the time you entered most of your teammates had left, a few lingered; but you sensed Jamie stayed on purpose.

 Once everyone else had taken leave Jamie finally came up to you. “So, I take it things went well last night?” He had known you were going to the charity event in hopes to see (Y/N). While he didn’t entirely approve of your methods, he was rooting for the two of you to reconcile.

 “I wouldn’t put it that way exactly. But we’re making progress.”

 “Wanna talk about it?” Needing to rehash some of last night, you nodded. Staff still milled around, and it was not a discussion that you needed everyone hearing. “I’ve gotta drop this shit off at my house then I’ll be over.” People didn’t give Jamie enough credit; he was an excellent captain, always knowing what his fellow teammates needed, always handling things with digression.

Packing up you headed back to your place; the short ride giving you time to re-evaluate. Jamie pulled in almost immediately behind you. Making coffee you began to recount your night. “I put her through hell Chubbs. You have no idea.”

 “I’m sure things haven’t been easy for her.”

 “That’s putting it mildly. The beginning of the night was an all-out battle. She doesn’t trust me, and I can’t blame her.” You described all the details of what transpired to Jamie, how she didn’t sleep for days, got dismissed from work, and finally how depression had overtaken her. There was just one last thing to mention; tiny as it might be in form, it was probably the biggest aspect of the night. “All that shit I put her through, but that wasn’t the worst thing. And, not that it’s a bad thing. Shit, I don’t even know how to say it. Or even if I should be.” Vaguely wondering who all (Y/N) had already told.

 “Segs I’m not going to say anything to anyone if that’s what you’re worried about. And trust me I’m not going to look at (Y/N) any differently.”

 “Well she’s gonna look differently.” Jamie just stared at you, your comment not making any sense at all. You had a feeling it was the look you had given when (Y/N) had said ‘we’re gone,’ last night. “She’s pregnant man, with my baby.” The possessiveness in you making you add that last part.

 “Fuck are you serious?”

 “Yeah, I was fucking stunned. And then of course I did the most stupid thing possible and asked if it was mine.”

 “Jesus, Tyler! You know that woman loves you. She would never cheat on you.” The fact that he just called you Tyler made you again realize how badly you’d screwed up last night.

 “Well it wouldn’t have been cheating, we weren’t together.” Jamie just shook his head at the stupidity of your statement. You’d tried to lessen the blow for yourself, by justifying your questioning. It rang hollow even to your ears. “You’re right I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking then. Anyway, she’s like fifteen weeks along. I would’ve thought she’d be showing by then or something.”

 “Usually happens around like twelve or sixteen weeks on a first pregnancy. Everyone’s different though” Your quizzical expression had him following up that statement. “What, my sister just had a baby, I know some shit.”

 “Well then you’re gonna teach me. I came home last night and ordered a bunch of books on Amazon.” Admittedly you might have gotten carried away downloading them all; there was, Dad’s Guide to Pregnancy for Dummies, Pregnancy: Put Yourself in her Shoes, We’re Pregnant, and Everything You Wanted To Know About Pregnancy But Were Too Afraid or Embarrassed to Ask. It was a little overwhelming, but you needed to prepare yourself. “I’m kind of at a loss on where to start.”

 Clapping you on the back, giving your shoulder a squeeze; Jamie encouraged you. “You’re gonna do great Seggy. I know my brother-in-law felt the same way, and now he’s a pro with my niece.”

 “Yeah, I hope I even get the chance. I need to get all this shit with (Y/N) figured out before the baby comes. Any ideas on how I can make that happen?”

 “Hmmm, I don’t know man. It needs to be big though. Like fucking fall on your knees beg for forgiveness type of shit.”

 “Thanks Captain Obvious. I know that already. I’ve already got flowers being delivered to her office on Monday, since I have no clue where she’s living at the moment.”

 “You need a god damn flower wall, not just a bouquet.” Jamie was right, you needed to think bigger. Something that said ‘I love you, I’m never leaving you, as well as I’ll never fucking cheat on you again, not even in a million years. That you couldn’t really buy a gift like that at the nearest mall, wasn’t lost on you. It needed to be something that showed her you were working towards your future together; moving on from past mistakes.

  Then like a light switch turning on a lamp; it hit you. “I got it!” excitement sounding in your voice. “A few weeks ago the realtor called. That house I’ve always wanted was coming on the market. (Y/N) and I have ridden past it a million times. We talked about buying it one day or building something like it. It has the perfect backyard for the dogs and kids. I’m gonna buy it, and give it to her. That is if it’s still for sale.” Getting the call weeks ago, you had dismissed the idea. That was your dream home, the place where you wanted to make your life with (Y/N); without her, at the time you just couldn’t even see contemplating it. Now, it was the perfect plan to show her where you wanted your lives to go.

 “I don’t know Segs. That seems a little….extreme.” You wouldn’t let Jamie’s reluctance sway you. “I was thinking more along the lines of like, couples’ therapy.”

 Flashing Jamie, a distasteful look, you grabbed your phone dialing the realtor’s number. A few quick questions and you set up a time tomorrow evening to view the home with (Y/N). Hanging up you gave Chubbs a pleased look. “This is gonna work man. I just feel it.”

 Continuing to shake his head at your strategy, Jamie got up to leave. “Look, I’m gonna head home and grab a nap before the game tonight. Just give it a little more thought before you follow this through. Would you Seggy?”

 “You just don’t get the beauty of it yet, Chubbs. Just wait you’ll see. I’ll talk to you tonight.” Walking him to the door, you glanced at your watch; (Y/N) should’ve called by now. Wordlessly you sent up a quick prayer that she wouldn’t back out. Throwing yourself on the couch, you watched time slowly tick by minute by painstaking minute. You let your mind drift to a time in the near future; you and (Y/N) walking into your new home, carrying a small little bundle in a car carrier. (Y/N) looked gorgeous as always, glancing down at the carrier you checked in on your new born; trying to determine if it was a boy or a girl. The ring on your phone brought you back from your imaginings. (Y/N)’s face appeared on the screen and you smiled to your empty living room.

 “Hey, babe.” It was an easy term of endearment that fell off your lips, after all the time the two of you had spent together.

 “Hey Ty. How was your morning skate?”

 This easy routine conversation felt like a million that you’d had before with her; one that you would have every time you were on the road. It was nice to feel some normalcy again. “Really great. I feel like tonight is going to be a good night for me, ya know.” You meant all those words, after practice you just had a renewed sense about the game.

 “That’s great Tyler. I’m glad you’re feeling better about hockey at least.”

 “I’m feeling better about a lot of things.” Unsaid words hung in the air. There was a long pause, as if she didn’t know what to say next and so to fill the void you added. “You wouldn’t want to come tonight, would you?”

 “Ummmm…I….Ummm…”you frowned knowing the answer she was trying to spit out; your brain already trying to work on a response. “I just don’t think I’d feel comfortable doing that yet Ty.”

 “Yeah sure, I completely understand. Plus, it’ll be noisy and loud, probably not good for the baby.” She laughed at that; the sound, music to your ears.

 “I think the baby can probably handle it, it’s got a lot surrounding it in there.”

 “Oh well, yeah…you’re probably right. Are you feeling ok today?” You hadn’t had a chance to discuss all the particulars with her; however, you’d read quickly last night that most morning sickness is over in the second trimester, which is where (Y/N) was at right now.

 “Yeah, baby and I are having a good morning.” You could almost hear the smile in her voice.

 “That’s great hun. You know we haven’t talked a lot about things, I mean where the baby’s concerned. I realized that when I was talking to Jamie.”

 Screaming into the phone at you, she yelled, “You told Jamie I’m pregnant!?!”

 Clearly this was another obvious mistake on your part; this was not the direction you wanted the conversation to go. You’d had enough screaming and yelling last night. “Um…Yeah. I didn’t think it’s that big of deal. I mean your friends know right?”

 “No Tyler, I haven’t fucking told a sole.” This said in a much softer voice. You hadn’t really given any real credence to her not telling anyone; automatically assuming her friends had this knowledge. After all they were the ones who had taken her to the doctor’s office in the first place.

 “Fuck, I’m sorry. I just thought…well since they took you and all.” It was yet another apology you were having to make to her.

 “No…It’s fine. I should’ve said something last night. I’m sorry I yelled.” Her regret at least showed you were making some headway.

 “Babe, why haven’t you told anyone?” It was a small question and one you wanted answered. Waking up this morning you were bubbling with excitement about the news, wanting to share it. That she had kept this secret from all those she loved for three weeks, was almost unfathomable.

 A long pause prefaced her answer. “I…Ummm…I don’t know Ty. I’m scared.” The last part barely a whisper.

 You knew that giving birth could be a scary time for a woman; hell, you had a feeling that when the time came, you would never know fear like you would in that moment. Already the baby and (Y/N) meant so much to you, and you hadn’t even known for twenty-four hours. Reassuring her, you spoke. “I know it can be scary hun, but we’ll get through this, together.”

 “I think that’s what I’m scared about Ty, the together part. Like I just don’t know.” Couldn’t she realize the life the three of you would have; correction six with the dogs. It would be almost out of a storybook. Lazy summer Sundays at the lake, where you’re laying in the grass, the baby between you. Taking them home after a victory. Hell, you’d already had a crystal-clear image of more kids to come. Knowing your sins of the past, weren’t quite forgiven yet, wasn’t an obstacle you would let get in the way of all that.

 “(Y/N), I know we have a long road ahead of us, but you’ve got to know; no got to believe, we are going to get through this. I promise you.” It was a promise you would continue to make, until she knew it deep in her bones.

 “I wish I could be as certain as you.”

 “We’ll get there, babe. You’ll see.” Silence ensued after that comment, but it wasn’t a bad thing. Your arms ached wanting to hold this woman in them right now and just reassure her. After a moment, you steered the conversation elsewhere. “So, I was kind of hoping that maybe tomorrow after work we could spend some time together. I’ve got something I need to show you.”

 Grateful for the change, she answered, “Really, what’s that?”

 “Oh no, you’re not going to ruin the surprise. You’ve just got to wait and see. So, can I pick you up about seven?”

Finally relenting with a, “Yeah, sure. I’ll text you my new address.”

 It was a step you didn’t think she would take, that she did, had your heart soaring. “Excellent!”

 “Oh, I forgot to tell you. The appointment on Tuesday is at four in the afternoon. Did you want to meet me there or go together?”

 Was this really a question, you could only imagine the stares, you would receive walking in to an OB/GYN office by yourself. “Honestly, I’d feel a bit weird walking in there by myself. Could I pick you up at the office or wherever you’re going to be and we’ll go together?”

 The light chuckle she gave, told you she already knew your reply. “I had a feeling. And yes, I’ll probably be at work; so, if you wouldn’t mind coming there, that would be great.” Plans made for the next few days, your adrenaline was pumping; knowing that you’d get to see her two days in a row. “I should probably let you get a nap; you’ve got a big game.”

 Frowning, time was always too short with her. You longed for those days when she would be around constantly; sharing naps with you. Sighing, you knew that time would come soon enough. “Yeah, I probably should. I’ll see you tomorrow at seven, maybe we could grab something to eat too. Gotta keep you two healthy.” It was also an ulterior motive to be around her longer.

 “Sounds good. Have a good game Ty.”

 “Thanks, babe. I love you.” The last part automatically coming out of your mouth, but the words were always true. Silently you willed her to say them back.

 “Me too.” It wasn’t exactly the response you were looking for, but then again, she didn’t hang up on you either. Laying the phone down on the table; you focused on what tomorrow would bring, closing your eyes, dreaming of all the possibilities that your future held with (Y/N) by your side.

[miitzwrites]

can i ask u a levi and eren drabble or fanfic for the prompt "Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore."? thanks💗

Sweet, beautiful anon, I’m sorry it took me so freaking long, but hey, this monster of a drabble turned into a 8k One shot, and I’m pretty happy with the result, so I really hope you enjoy it as well!! Thanks for the prompt, come by if you want another -probably shorter- one!

[more prompts to send in] [if you would like to donate me a ko-fi, go there; or if you want to commission me a longer OS or a fic, send me a msg!!]

“Fuck, Erwin, I can’t do it. He’s a child, and sick at it,” the man whispered, but his voice seemed loud to the ears of the boy who laid chained to the metal bed, stripped down to only a pair of briefs, barely conscious. He was thin, and his skin acquired a pale tone, almost translucid, making his veins to stick out like fragile branches. And as if that wasn’t enough sign of the abuse he had been subjected to, his arms were painted in bruises, news and old ones, and needle marks were visible on his skin.

 “Levi, he’s not part of the mission, and I don’t think he’s going to make it, anyway; remember what our boss told us, no witnesses. I am so sorry, but there’s no other way to help him,” the broad, giant blonde that accompanied the short, black-haired man, answered, and though his voice was cold, his eyes showed sympathy for the poor bastard who looked almost dead. When Levi refused to follow his orders, the blonde sighed, and approached the boy, holding a small knife in his hands. He knew how to make it less painful, almost merciful. With a loose hold on the boy’s hair, Erwin raised his knife, ready to strike, but a strong hand stopped him. 

 “He’s the son, Erwin. And if what we found about the mother is true, the kid will need some blood transfusions to help him going.”

 “Levi…”

 “Just fucking do it, eyebrows! I’ve seen this shit before, okay? Just… trust me on this one.” Shocked by the abrupt change in the raven’s behavior, Erwin nodded and helped Levi to untie the boy. They knew it was risky to make any move there in the middle of a deserted laboratory, so they decided to take him to their friend and doctor’s house, Hange Zöe, who waited for them after every mission. 

 -x-x-x-

 Eren hated thunderstorms. He hated them badly, but after almost seven years of therapy, he learned how not to go into a full panic attack when the first thunder stroke. 

 He sat in front of the picture window in their living room, bundled up in a soft, blue blanket, holding against his face one of his boyfriend’s shirts, finding comfort in its smell. He scratched his arm, anxiously, ignoring the pain that came with that action. After months of being subjected to blood extraction and the experiments that came with it, the skin in his arms, legs, back of his hands and feet, became tender, hurting himself if he wasn’t careful. But, when he got like this, waking up after a nightmare and feeling numb, he lost his sense of reality, almost as if he traveled back to the source of his pain. 

 -x-x-x-

 The boy, or better said, Eren, had been the subject of illegal experiments ran by Grisha Yeager, his father. For the information they gathered upon inspecting the laboratory, Dr. Yeager intended to make a serum from his son's blood, that could help treat some strange disease, which cure had yet to be found. The reason behind this experiment was unknown to the agents. And, with the lack of cooperation from Eren, they could only guess.

 Eren didn’t speak and barely ate anything. He wasn’t malnourished, not exactly, but his haggard face made him look sick. He didn’t let anyone touch him, becoming quickly a trouble to the staff. Doctors and psychologists tried to approach him, but the boy was fast to avoid them when they presented him with a needle to take a sample of his blood or to give him some vitamins or other medicines. They had to restrain him more than once, but not even that made him want to talk to the agents.

 After Levi and Erwin found him in that abandoned laboratory, they took him to Hange’s place, where she performed an urgent blood transfusion, just like Levi predicted. It was a surprise to Erwin and Moblit, Hange’s assistant when Levi was the one compatible with the boy’s type of blood. His records were classified since he was recruited into the Survey Corps, a secret intelligence agency that worked alongside the government, doing the dirty work when it was needed, so the only person who knew about him, was Hange, the woman who convinced him to join the SC, after being let up by his gang to die after a failed mission.

 Both had an extremely odd blood type -Rh-null-, and while their blood was accepted by anyone, Rh-null carriers could only accept blood by others of the same type. It had been a miracle that they found Eren when they did.

 But, aside from his health, the progress was minimal. Eren didn’t acknowledge them, they knew he wasn’t deaf because sudden noises startled him. After being discharged from the hospital and discovering that Eren didn’t have any close family that could take him in, Hange decided to look after him. And in this new environment, Eren remained secluded into his room. He only walked out of the bedroom to use the bathroom and wasn’t particularly interested in going outside. The boy was a mystery, especially for Levi. And as the man stared at his unofficial ward, he couldn’t help but feel connected to him.

 -x-x-x-

 Traffic was a bitch to deal with, and Levi tapped his fingers anxiously over the wheel, observing with a pained expression how the cars didn’t move an inch after the traffic light turned green. He didn’t want to worry, but he knew his boyfriend, and he remembered every single episode he suffered when the storms were accompanied by thunders.

 It had been a little over a year since they moved in together, and frankly, Levi couldn’t be happier. It was a blessing to start his days and finish them with the sight of that beautiful shade of green that he loved dearly. But, although the good days occurred more often, the worry of having a setback, never left him. 

 With a sigh, he dialed Eren’s number again, frowning when he didn’t answer for the fourth time that evening.

-x-x-x-

 “For fuck's sake, Nile, are you even listening to the shit you’re spitting out?” Levi groaned, again, it was the effect that Nile, his supervisor, had on him. 

 “Don’t be so crude, Ackerman. If you can’t see it, it’s your damn fault,” Nile answered, used to Levi’s bad temper -but feeling a little intimidated, nevertheless-, “the boy is almost eighteen, if we don’t clear this up, he could be prosecuted for his father’s crimes as an accomplice.”

 “Erwin, beat some sense into this asshole before I do,” Levi stood up, ignoring the scowl of his coworkers. 

 “Levi, don’t let your personal feelings play into this, it can be dangerous,” Erwin suggested, and the room’s air became suddenly thick, and even Hange, who was munching on some snacks, stopped, looking at Levi with widened eyes.

 “Come again?” Levi asked calmly, a clear sign of his lack of patience. The man was about to snap, everyone in the made-up office in Hange’s house could see it. And no one wanted to be at the receiving end of Levi’s anger.

 “Your medical history matched some details with Eren’s. It’s such a huge coincidence, wouldn’t you say so?” Erwin explained slowly, how one would talk to a child. A glass flew by his side, missing his head by merely an inch. He didn’t wince and kept his eyes firmly on Levi. 

 “Don’t ever talk about things you cannot understand, do you hear me, fucking moron?” Levi threatened and didn’t wait for an answer, storming out the room and to his spare bedroom in Hange’s place, where he had been spending most of his time since rescuing Eren. 

 The door to Eren’s bedroom was ajar, and Levi was sure the boy had heard them talking. He didn’t bother to knock, but he entered the room, mindful of not making a sudden noise that could startle Eren. 

 “You heard us, didn’t you?” As expected, Eren didn’t answer, but his uneven breathing was enough to answer for Levi. “You don’t have to tell us anything if you’re not ready, just know that we’re here for you if you need us,” and after a moment, he added, “I promise you, no one will ever hurt you again.”

 Suddenly, Eren looked up. Green and grey eyes crossed for the first time since the boy was first brought into the care of the SC, and Levi managed a small smile. Eren didn’t reciprocate it, but there was a sparkle in his eyes that told Levi he was going slowly but surely breaking down Eren’s barriers.

 -x-x-x-

 Not even a week later, the news reached the agents, informing them of the recent discovery of Grisha's dead body in a property that belonged to his first wife, Dina Fritz. The man killed himself, letting a note begging his son to forgive him, and explaining more detailed what he did to Eren. 

 His second wife and mother of Eren, Carla, was diagnosed a few years ago with a weird and practically unknown blood disease, that only worsened over the time, causing her to need constant blood transfusions. The problem was that her blood type was the same as her son's. There was no other person in the country that could help her, and his son couldn't donate his blood due to his age. 

 Grisha, then, did what he thought would help his wife, and after getting Eren’s consent, he started his research. At first, he would take a sample or two, but as time passed, he took more and more of his blood, giving him enough vitamins to have his son healthy. But that didn't change his wife's condition. In a moment of desperation, he searched for the people that he knew worked in the underground market, and they agreed that he needed a more aggressive approach. And then, Eren's nightmare began. 

 He accepted the help of a pharmacologist who promised would deliver better results in no time, but that didn't happen, and not only did Carla die without saying goodbye to her son months ago, but he never saw Eren again, and when the news about the raid on the lab of the pharmacologist reached him, he did what he thought would lead him to see his beloved family again, and with the help of a shotgun, ended his life. 

 “So that settles it then. Neither of them is guilty,” said Levi after hearing Nile’s report.

 “It’s not that easy, Ackerman. We need to find this man, if he ends up being an invention of Grisha, the poor boy will suffer the consequences.” 

 “We have more urgent matters to attend to right now; how are we gonna tell him everything?” asked a mortified Hange, shaking her head after reading for a second time that day, the report. 

 “He needs to talk first and confirm his father's story. The information in the lab never revealed a second name, and no one saw or heard Grisha talking to another man. It could be a cover story for the trafficking ring in the underground,” Nile offered, disgusted by this whole mess. 

 “Just tell him so,” Levi suggested, “if the kid's responsible, his reaction will tell us. Just tell him the truth, your mom died, you were abandoned by God knows who, and your father took his life, so you either let us help you or you know, go to jail and all that crap.”

 “Geez, Ackerman, no wonder why you didn't qualify for the psychology department,” scolded Nile, shaking his head. But the moment was interrupted by an almost unintelligible voice from the door. There, in front of the small group gathered in their usual made-up office, was Eren, looking at them with big, glassy eyes. For the first time, his usual inexpressive face showed sadness, and he spoke to the team that seemed as fragile as the owner.

 “Are they dead? Mom and dad?”

 “Eren, sweetie-.” Hange stood up, ready to console him, but Eren quickly shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest.

 “No! When did they die?” 

 “Carla died six months ago, and your father was found earlier this week,” Levi answered, in his usual bluntness, but something told him the boy didn’t need to be cooed. 

 Eren’s face fell, and a sob found its way through his lips, “he said he’d help us if I behaved,” he whispered, and before anyone could ask what he meant, he turned around, returning to his bedroom, crestfallen.

 “Eren, wait!” Hange yelled, but it was too late. Nile and Erwin were ready to follow him, but Levi stopped them.

 “Wait here until I tell you. I think I can handle him.”

 Levi knocked at the door twice, out of courtesy, and stepped inside. He sat on the edge of the bed, and his heart clenched at the sight of Eren, curled up in a ball, crying silently. Levi wasn’t an expert with victims. He got them out, and his job was done. Eren had been an especial case since the beginning, and now, he wasn’t sure of how to proceed.

  “I know what you’re going through,” Levi lamely said, as if that would help him bond with the boy, but he knew that had been the wrong thing to say. Despite not saying anything, Eren’s jaw tightened, as if he were containing himself. Resigned, he continued, “I was once where you are right now. I was born and raised in the underground, my mom was a whore and I never met my father. She did her best to take care of me, but she got sick when I was six. And things went downhill from there,” Levi didn’t know why he felt the need to reveal this part of his story to the boy, something that only Hange knew, and only snips of it. 

 “One of her clients came and offered to help us. He took us to what we believed was a shelter. He gave us food, medicine for her, clothes and a good place to live. Then one day, they stopped giving my mom the medicine that she needed, and I could only watch as she died. I wish I had been stronger back then; I would’ve broken bone after bone of the shitbag that dragged her body out of our room as if she were garbage.”

 Levi tried to swallow the knot on his throat, so unused to tell his story. But it was the only way he could show Eren that he understood him. Their experiences weren’t the same, but he could understand the level of pain that Eren suffered. He had felt it himself, and yet, he had survived.

 “I was going to be sold off to one of the assholes that sponsored that place, but when they made some tests to see if I was healthy, they discovered that I was “special”. I have the same shit as you, so I became their golden boy. They used me as their blood bag, but only that. It was less painful in comparison to what happened to other kids. Long story short, the shelter couldn’t run such a successful business without the biggest dog in the underground noticing it. Kenny the Reaper is his name, and he dismantled the place, killed most of the people that ran that place, and let the kids run freely on the streets. Funny thing is, that idiotic man is my uncle. He was pretty mad when he found me among those brats.

 And once I was freed from that place, the nightmares started, the night terrors, the paranoia of being chased by one of the fuckers from the shelter. Life hasn’t been easy, but I survived. You’ll get there, Eren, just give it some time.”

 Somehow, Levi felt lighter after telling Eren about his past. He didn’t tell him about his time as Kenny’s ward, or when he ran his own gang, and although he wasn’t proud of some of the things he did, Levi would truthfully tell Eren more, if he asked. 

 The room was in silence, and Eren had finally calmed down. Levi was going to let him rest, but long, bony fingers grabbed his hand, and he understood the quiet message. He stood there, holding Eren’s hand until he was sure the boy was asleep. 

 And, the following morning, when Erwin asked him what had happened the previous night, Levi replied that he would watch over Eren for the time being, before they were forced to send him away because he was confident that he would get through him. After all, no one could understand him as well he did. 

 -x-x-x-

 The following days, Levi started to notice how prominent the bags under Eren’s eyes became. Instead of getting better, he looked frailer. Levi could coax him to eat a meal or two and to walk outside for a little while, but nothing seemed to work out, Eren even refused to talk to their newly hired psychiatrist, Petra Ral. He was concerned, if the boy didn't make significant progress, he would be sent to a psychiatric clinic, and Levi had had his fair share of shrinks as to know how badly that place could fuck up Eren's already weak mental state. 

 And his concerns only increased one evening when he got a call from Hange, telling him they were at the hospital. 

 The sky was clouded, and heavy drops fell on the ground, accompanied by occasional thunders. Even Levi got startled a couple of times while driving, but he focused on the road, intent on getting to the hospital in time. 

 When he arrived, he found Hange sitting in the waiting room. She had managed to get a private room for Eren, but what caught the attention of his short friend, was the gash on the right side of her face. Hange tried to smile, but she winced instead. “I only got three stitches; I've gotten worse.”

 “Good thing I don't have kids. I've had my fill with you and the emergency room for a long time. Where's Eren?”

 “We had to sedate him,” the humor in Hange's face disappeared, and looked at Levi with sad, big brown eyes, “the thunderstorm triggered a crisis. He didn't recognize me and thought I'd hurt him, so he did this. Moblit helped me to bring him here. He even crushed a mirror with his bare hand. Doctors said he was lucky he didn’t cause any permanent damage.”

 Levi cursed loudly, earning a frown from one of the nurses that passed by. He went to Eren’s hospital bedroom, and upon opening the door, stopped dead on his tracks. The sight of Eren trembling and whimpering, with his hands tied, so he wouldn’t hurt himself or others, angered him. The kid didn’t deserve this shit, so controlling his initial anger, he walked to his bed. Carefully, he untied him, rubbed his reddish wrists, and wiped the tears off his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

 “This is so fucking unfair,” whispered Levi, “you don’t deserve going through this shit.”

 “I behaved like he said,” Eren muttered weakly, and Levi’s head shot up with surprise when he heard him talking, “but he lied, and now my parents are dead,” a new wave of tears filled Eren’s eyes, and Levi cupped his face with both hands, holding his face softly. 

 “Who is this man, Eren?”

 “Mr. Zackly. He’s the owner of the lab where you found me,” replied Eren, and then began telling what he remembered. Grisha had contacted the man in hopes of getting a second opinion about his wife’s condition, and the man, a pharmacologist well-known in the underground because of his unorthodox methods and experiments with new drugs, suggested he could treat his case personally, but in order to do so, he had to conduct his own research on Eren. Grisha declined the idea, but it was his son who convinced him. Eren wanted to give it a try if that meant his blood would be useful for his mom’s recovery. 

 But Eren’s stay was prolonged three more months that what they had originally agreed on. For six months, Eren endured Zackly’s perverted ideas, some of them leaving him on the verge of dying. And when he felt like giving up, Zackly would give him reports on his mother’s condition. Eren was truly happy when he read Carla was making incredible progress after five months under Zackly’s care. He didn’t know she was already dead by that moment.

 A couple of days before Levi and Erwin found him, Zackly had taken a good amount of his blood, careful not to overdo it, and abandoned the lab and Eren. He had heard rumors that the location of his laboratory had been found and would be ambushed, so before getting caught, he fled, like the coward he was. 

 And, innocently, Eren thought Grisha would come back for him, but instead, the SC’s agents had found him, and his worst fears were confirmed the night he heard them talking about the suicide of his father. The memories of some of the experiments were fuzzy, and Levi didn’t want to dwell on them, prompting another crisis on Eren, so he took Eren’s hand -the one that wasn’t badged-, and firmly, he promised, “I’m going to find the son of a bitch that caused you this pain.”

 Eren stared at the man for an instant, before nodding and closing his eyes. He didn’t doubt it that Levi would fulfill his promise.

 -x-x-x-

 The SC’s headquarters was a façade. A flat in the middle of the city where only tech interns worked, was enough as to no arise suspicion about the work of said organization. Regularly, the noise was minimal, with two exceptions. One being Hange and her enthusiast talks to the interns, and the other one, being Levi, throwing things at the walls in an angry fit.

 They had been investigating Darius Zackly for over two months now, and the information they found didn’t incriminate the man at all. He had everything covered up, had alibis for his long work trips outside the city, and even, ten years ago, when he was subjected to a trial under the charges of malpractice, he wasn’t condemned because the evidence wasn’t enough, leaving him free to continue with his perverted plans. 

 When Levi finally vented his frustrations -or ran out of things to throw at the wall-, he sat heavily on a chair, staring up at the ceiling. Nothing was going as planned, and that frustrated him, and what was worse, he barely saw Eren, with the amount of work he had, by the time he got back to Hange’s place, Eren was either asleep or out with Petra. 

 Following his stay in the hospital, and as if a weight would’ve been lifted from his shoulders, Eren accepted Petra’s help, and the psychiatrist recommended him going to support groups where he could talk to other victims. She also told him it’d be ideal if he found an activity that he would enjoy until he decided if he wanted to go back to school or not. And, after a couple of weeks trying different things, Eren decided to volunteer in the local animal shelter. 

 Eren suffered from nightmares but wasn’t a constant occurrence, only once or twice he would wake up screaming or crying as if he were back in the lab, but the thing he had yet to overcome was his fear of thunderstorms. For what Eren had told him and Hange, he had lived for months in a small cell where he was chained to the bedpost, to prevent him from attacking one of Zackly’s men. The room didn’t have a window or anything that let him see the exterior, but he could hear when it was raining, and the sound effect of the thunders on that cell, scared him. Weak from whatever that man had put him through, with no way of covering the thunders, and with no source of light, had left Eren traumatized. 

 Levi shifted his attention to the clock on the opposite wall, and it read half-past seven. Another day with no improvement left a sour taste on his mouth, so he used his last resource. Picking up his cellphone, he dialed a number that he had memorized since he was younger.

 “Hey, old man, I need a favor.”

 -x-x-x-

 Kenny was a strong name in the underground, his business, although illegal, conserved some type of ethic that didn’t allow him nor his men, to hurt the most vulnerable people. Sure, he had his brothels, and he trafficked weapons and drugs, but he never touched a kid or a lady without her consent. Thus, when he got his nephew’s request to investigate Zackly, he was a hundred percent aboard. 

 Finding information was easy. Relying upon them to his nephew, even more so. However, what wasn’t a piece of cake, was delivering the news to his nephew, that this man used to visit Olympia during her available hours, nor that he approached them because her son was exactly what the market needed. Yes, as it turned out, Zackly was a client of Kuchel Ackerman, his late sister, and his instincts told him that he had something to do with her death and the subsequent imprisonment of his nephew before he dismantled that old shelter. 

 Kenny rarely left his safe house, preferring using a safe channel to speak privately with his people, but this time, he knew he needed to pay a visit to the city. 

 -x-x-x-

 “Mr. Ackerman, a man requested a meeting with you. He says it’s urgent, so he made himself comfortable at your office.,” the newest intern, Marlow, told Levi upon his arrival at the SC HQs. Levi frowned, ready to reprimand him for being careless as to let someone into his office without even asking his name. Unfortunately, Levi knew there was only one idiot with enough galls, as to step into his territory and be unaffected by his fury.

 “Listen up, kid, if anyone asks, no one, and I repeat it, no one has come to see me today. Do you understand?” Marlow paled under Levi’s frigid gaze, and nodded quickly, returning to his desk to try to focus on his work. When Levi reached his office, the curtains were drawn, and the lights were dimmed. He closed the door behind himself, and locked it, just to be sure.

 “Nice office, brat,” Kenny said as a greeting, sitting behind Levi’s desk as if he owned the place. 

 “To what do I owe the displeasure of your visit?” Levi replied, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. 

 “I gathered all the information that you needed, rat. All you need to do is to plan how you’re gonna present it to the big guns, and then start the whole shit-show. The bastard will spend a long time in the cooler if you do this right.”

 Levi hummed, with a hint of suspicion. He was good at reading others, and by the crease on Kenny’s brows, there was something else that the man wasn’t telling him yet. The silence lingered for a moment longer, and Kenny chuckled, procuring an envelope from his jacket. 

 “Why don’t you let me deal with him?” Offered Kenny, but Levi narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, don’t look at me like that, just let’s keep this off the records, kid, alright?” Levi took the envelope from Kenny’s outstretched hand, and opened it, reading the contents. The information was from almost 25 years ago when the man started working as a contact between the black market and the lowest whorehouses in the underground. 

 “What’s this, Kenny?”

 “I’m an old man, kid, but my instinct has never failed me. And I’m convinced this asshole visited your mama at her job.”

 Levi felt as if cold water had been poured over him. He was a kid, he hardly remembered faces or names, but Kenny never lied to him, and most of the times, he was right. The struggle in his face was obvious to the old man, but he couldn’t force his nephew to decide in such a short time. They both respected their line of jobs, even if they were opposites. 

 “Listen, son, just take your time. Do your work and use this information as you please. But don’t forget I’m a call away if you need me, okay?” Kenny offered his support, placing his hand on Levi’s shoulder, and he nodded dumbly, ignoring when his uncle left his office. He knew what he had to do, he was one of the best in his division, but this case was hitting close home, and for the first time Levi was at a loss of what to do.

 -x-x-x-

 Laughter could be heard from the backyard, and Levi stopped to gauge the sound. Did Hange invite someone? That was unlikely, in most cases, the obnoxious laughter would belong to her, and what he heard wasn’t as annoying as hers. Regardless, he found himself surprised when he spotted the owner of said laughter. 

 Eren was sprawled on the grass, trying to regain his breath, as a huge beast licked his face and pawed at his belly. The joyous sound reached him again, and for a moment, Levi regretted not being able to store it away and treasure it. If it were for him, Levi would give everything in his hands to keep that smile on Eren’s face and to hear him laughing more often. 

 “Oh, you're here early,” Hange greeted him from the kitchen, “did you miss us?”

 “As if you wouldn't know already what happened,” grumbled Levi, finally taking his eyes off Eren.

 “Well, yes, but I wanna hear it from you. You know Erwin gets moody and doesn't tell me the fun bits.”

 “I got suspended for two weeks because I told a coworker to kindly fuck himself,” Hange snickered, making that horrible sound that annoyed Levi, “and apparently, I was too invested in the case, so I needed to either chill-out or step down.”

 “Ah, can't say I didn't see it coming. Poor Nile, I bet he's traumatized.”

 “Nile? It was the fucking tall blonde that got me suspended. Nile only signed it up.” 

 “Oh boy, Smith omitted the funniest thing,” the grin on Hange’s face verged on maniac, and Levi wondered, not for the first time, why he was friends with such a crazy lot. Nevertheless, he knew no one would understand him as Hange did. That batshit crazy individual knew how to put up with him. 

 “The evidence we got isn’t enough,” commented Levi, directing his gaze back at Eren, “half of the evidence isn’t conclusive, the other half can’t be trusted because an unknown source isn’t reliable enough. We have nothing, Hange.”

 Hange observed how Levi looked at the younger man, and arched a brow, but decided not to comment anything, yet. Instead, she boiled some water, knowing that nothing calmed his grumpy friend as tea did. 

 “And why did Erwin think you’re too involved?”

 “Kenny is convinced that the fucker here is the same man that got my mom into that fucking place. And I don’t believe in coincidences.” Hange nodded and offered a pat on Levi’s back as a way of comfort. She would’ve hugged him, but the few punches that she earned over the years, taught her a thing or two about Levi.

 The door that led to the backyard was opened, and a gasping Eren entered the kitchen. He signaled the big dog to wait for him outside, and the animal obeyed him, waging his tail. 

 “Hey, Levi, You’re early.”

 “Yeah, yeah, got some free time, so here I am.”

 “That’s good! I haven’t seen you in days,” Eren smiled, and by reflex, Levi mirrored his expression, “oh, by the way, my little buddy out there, is Titan, he was abandoned some weeks ago, and I was asked to look after him for a while, if you don’t mind.” 

 “This is Hange’s place if four eyes doesn’t mind, I don’t mind either. Just keep it out of the house and don’t let it shit everywhere.”

 Eren touched his jaw with his fingers, a gesture that Levi picked up on as nervousness. The blush that was already present in his face, deepened, and the older man quirked an eyebrow, waiting for the boy to keep talking.

 “W-well, I, uh, I’ve been talking to Petra and she says it’s policy of the SC to keep under their care the people that are like me,” Levi noted the way Eren flinched, avoiding to say out loud that he had no family to go back to, “and I’m almost eighteen, so I’d like to adopt him, so I need you to sign up the forms.”

 “Shouldn’t Hange do that?”

 “N-no. I mean, I’m gonna move in with you in a couple of months, right?”

 Luckily, Hange had yet to hand Levi his tea, otherwise, he was sure he would’ve dropped the cup. Levi stared at Eren, gauging how serious his statement was. And then, as blunt as ever, he replied, “and what on earth gave you the impression that I’d let you live with me?”

 For the first time in a long time, he regretted his unfiltered mouth when he noticed the hurt that crossed the boy’s eyes. To cover up his deflated expression, Eren looked down, scratching the side of his face, again. “Listen, kid, my apartment isn’t fitting for a person, much less for a boy and his enormous beast. And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m barely around. I wouldn’t have the time to look after you.”

 “And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a damn kid, Levi,” Eren countered, tensing his jaw in a way that denoted anger. Without another word, he turned around and left the kitchen, and the last Levi heard before Eren closed the door, was “I guess it’s just you and me, big boy.”

 “The fuck was that for?!” Levi exclaimed when Hange slapped the back of his head before placing his tea in front of him. 

 “I cannot believe that one of the Corps’ finest is such a stupid, little man!”

 “Oi!”

 “Eren likes you, for God’s sake!”

 “The kid’s not bad, but I wouldn’t be a good guardian nor roomie for him,” Hange shoot him an incredulous look that made Levi uncomfortable. “Stop looking at me like that, lunatic!”

 Deciding to drop the topic, for now, Hange shook her head. Definitely, his friend needed to interact more with others if he wanted to catch romantic clues faster. 

   -x-x-x-

 When the news about the prosecution of Zackly for his involvement in human trafficking and the evidence became public knowledge, his legal team was quick to shut down any suspicion, painting every possible witness as unfitting for court. Even Eren, who was by far one of the sanest witnesses and one of the few victims rescued, was disregarded, claiming that he was lying to protect his father and that the abuse he suffered provoked him to want to blame someone innocent. 

 It came without saying that Eren’s confidence and progress declined from all the chaos that surrounded him. He spent hours away in his bedroom and only allowed Titan to accompany him. And, if that wasn’t enough, the nightmares started with more frequency.

 Levi couldn’t do much, other than to watch from the side and curse his bad luck. Since their failed conversation a while ago, Eren had put an invisible barrier between them, and any type of comfort the older man tried to offer, was ignored or denied, so he could only stay outside of Eren’s room, listening to him sniffing and muffing his sobbing against his pillow, as Titan whimpered by his owner’s side. But he couldn’t stay back and watch him suffer when he started panicking one night. 

 The light rain turned quickly into a storm, the kind that makes windows and doors tremble with the force of it. Levi couldn’t sleep, his insomniac tendencies worsened when he was stressed, and he hadn’t had a moment to rest in the past months. He re-read the files, trying to find a way out, but they were cornered. With a sigh, he threw the papers to the floor and stood up to refill his cup of tea, when a sound from Eren’s room alerted him. It started with a loud thud, and then another, and another one, as if someone were throwing things at the wall. Then the beast that Eren called his dog, barked and scratched the door. That was Levi’s clue to sprint to his room, and kick the door open, not minding if he made the boy upset by bursting in that way.

 Titan rounded his legs, and Levi pushed him lightly to the side, approaching Eren. The boy kept his gaze on the corner of the room as if he was expecting something to jump out and attack him. Levi noticed several glasses and other stuff shattered on the floor as if Eren had used them to try to protect him. 

 “Eren,” Levi called him softly, stilling when the boy tensed. He turned to look at the older man with fear in his eyes, and that sight hurt Levi in a way that he couldn’t quite understand. He knew people dealt with trauma in different ways, he had an outlet when he was younger, fighting to make a name for himself in the underground, but that didn’t always help him. Sometimes, he wished he could turn to the person next to him and hug him. But he wasn’t a touchy person, he wasn’t sure if he would ever feel a hundred percent comfortable with someone else invading his personal space. However, at that moment, those thoughts were forgotten. After a moment, the cloud in Eren’s eyes dissipated, and realizing it was Levi who had barged into his room, Eren launched at him, almost making them fall. 

 “Oi brat, you’re spending so much time with your beast. His bad habits are starting to rub off on you,” he tried to joke, to make the younger man smile, but it was useless. His shoulders shook but not from laughter. Fat tears rolled down Eren’s eyes, and Levi let him cling to him, wetting his shirt and holding him almost uncomfortably tightly. 

 “I’m going crazy, Levi,” Eren sobbed, “I’m waiting for Zackly or one of his men to come here to hurt us. I could swear I saw someone on the corner, but I was alone.” The paranoid of being hunted down was something Levi learned to live with. Instantly, his mind was making any kind of plans to help Eren to cope with it. He could train him or ask one of his fellow agents to do so. Anything that could give him some peace, Levi would do it.

 He allowed Eren to get everything off his chest, but when the boy mumbled apologies, Levi frowned, and took his face between his hands, to make Eren look at him. 

 “Listen up, brat, you have nothing to apologize for, alright?” Instead of answering, Eren shut his eyes tightly and shook his head. “Eren, look at me. C’mon, look at me, please,” it took him a couple of minutes to take deep breaths, just like Petra taught him, but when he finally could look at Levi, the older man smiled, and he brushed his thumbs over the boy’s cheeks. “Hey, calm down, alright? They can’t hurt you anymore. And I promise, no one will ever touch you again.”

 Eren nodded shakily, and convinced that he believed him, Levi maneuvered them on the bed, so he could rest against the headboard while Eren rested on his chest. Levi’s legs caged Eren’s body, in a way that would make him feel protected, but that he could also leave whenever he felt like it. 

 Minutes passed, and Eren finally managed to calm down, soothed by the constant throb of Levi’s heart. Slowly, he fell asleep, confident that the nightmares wouldn’t return that night. 

 Hours later, when Hange returned from her job, she found Eren’s door open, and giving in her curious nature, she poked her head into the room, finding them in the same position, with Eren clinging to Levi’s shirt, and Levi carding a hand through Eren’s hair, while the other was upon Titan’s back, who laid comfortably on Levi’s left leg. 

 Hange smiled knowingly. It was only a matter of times before his stupid friend finally realized his feelings and Eren’s, she was sure of it.

 -x-x-x-

 As expected, the case against Zackly was rejected and Levi was sure that son of a bitch bribed the judge into disallowing the case. The public opinion was mixed, but the majority agreed that he was either a lunatic or a predator, or that he was both. 

 “What will happen now, Levi?” Hange asked him, both were in the park near the courthouse, after hearing the verdict. Levi couldn’t go back to Hange’s place yet. Eren was at work in the animal shelter, but it was only a matter of time until he heard the news, too. 

 “I don’t know, Hange. The bastard is free to wander around and hurt more people. He won’t stop unless someone stops him.” 

 Hange learned back and observed her friend. His slouched posture and tense jaw, how he anxiously tapped his fingers over his knees or bobbed his head imperceptibly. “You know what to do, don’t you?” Levi affirmed with a nod, and Hange hummed. “What’s stopping you, then?”

 “You know the answer as well as I do.”

 “Well, I’d say he has done enough for a lifetime. I’m sure Eren thinks the same way.”

 “Eren?”

 “Yes. I heard him once saying that, if he could, he’d kill him himself with his bare hands.”

 Despite the situation, Levi smiled. The kid had some courage, the sparkle in his eyes shone brightly, even if it dimed at times. With that in mind, he finally decided on what to do. He pulled his phone from his pocket and sent a quick message. Then he got up and extended his hand to help Hange up. “Let’s go back now.” 

 -x-x-x-

 “And as expected, this case is closed until further notice, and any information that comes through us will be redirected to the Federal Agency while the investigation runs its course. Understood?” The agents nodded when Nile finished his speech, and then he dismissed them. 

 Outside in the hallway, Erwin stopped Levi and brought him to an empty office. Levi crossed his arms and waited for his friend to start talking.

 “Aren’t you going to say anything?” 

 “I’m not sure what you mean, eyebrows.”

 “Zackly was found dead this morning with a letter detailing his crimes. Do you expect me to believe that it was a simple suicide?” 

 “Maybe the bastard grew a conscience over the past days and decided to do a favor to the world.”

 “Levi…”

 “Listen, I don’t care, okay? I wish the man would’ve swallowed his fucking tongue, but I didn’t get my wish, so this is better than nothing. Now, if you don’t have more inquires, I’d like to go.”

 Erwin didn’t try to stop Levi this time.

 -x-x-x-

 It was liberating for both men to know that the source of their pain was already gone.

 While Levi continued with his job, Eren was able to move on. With the help of the SC and recommended by Petra, he was accepted into the State University where he would major in psychology. He had a strict schedule, going to classes, working at the animal shelter, therapy with Petra, etc. But he felt freer than ever. Also, he was authorized to find a place for himself instead of living under Hange’s roof, not that he wasn’t grateful, on the contrary, but he wanted to regain the control over his life, and since he couldn’t afford a big house or an apartment, he was happy to live in a shared house with other students that allowed him to move in with Titan. 

 Levi closed the door behind him and placed the last door on Eren’s bed. He had offered to help him to move to his new house. Luckily, he didn’t have much back at Hange’s place, so the moving was quick. 

 “Anything else, kid?”

 “No, and I told you to stop calling me that.”

 “Oh, I’m sorry, young adult, then.”

 “Levi! I’m serious,” the pout on Eren’s face didn’t help him, and Levi chuckled, looking fondly at Eren. In the past months, he had grown some more, and Levi had to stretch his neck more to look at him. He also gained some weight, filling his muscles nicely, and the brat let his hair grow, so he wore it in a small bun. 

 “You’re a cute shit, you know that?” Levi chuckled at Eren’s blush. “Well, I’ll leave you to settle down, call me if you need anything.” 

 “Levi, wait!” Eren grabbed him by the shoulder, and Levi looked at him inquisitively. Eren didn’t say anything for a moment, but his eyes moved from Levi’s to his lips. The blush that was already set on his cheeks, deepened, and Levi was about to make a teasing comment when a pair of lips landed on his. 

 To say that he was shocked, was an understatement, he just froze, and didn’t have the time to react when Eren pulled apart slightly, only to change the angle of his head, to press his lips against Levi’s once more. But this time, Levi did react, pushing him away with probably more force than needed. He turned away, rubbing his hands over his face, trying to calm his beating heart. “Fuck kid, why did you do that?” Levi whispered, feeling somewhat conflicted after Eren’s kiss. Maybe it had been an impulse, right? Or a way to thank him for what he did for the kid. But he could almost hear Hange’s obnoxious laughter, confirming him that, yes, the kid liked him. “fuck, fuck, fuck.”

 “I’m really sorry, Levi,” the boy apologized, sitting on his bed, looking at his feet. “I thought you’d finally see me as something more than a kid now that I moved out. But clearly, I was wrong.” When Levi remained in silence, Eren took a shaky breath, “I-I like you, okay? And don’t say it’s just a crush, because I’ve known you for almost two years and this feeling hasn’t changed. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, just tell me that I didn’t fuck up our friendship, and let’s forget about this, please, Levi?”

 But Levi couldn’t simply forget it or pretend that it didn’t happen. Sure, Eren’s confession caught him by surprise, but he’d be lying if he said he never thought about Eren as more than just a kid, and that thought left him feeling restless in the past. Regaining his composure, he sat by Eren’s side, frowning when the kid flinched.

 “Eren, I’m too old for this shit, so I really want your full honesty here, okay? No half-truths,” when Eren nodded, Levi continued, “Why would you like an old man like me?”

 Eren snorted at the comment, and his lips curled up slightly, “You’re not old, Levi, 32 years old isn’t old.”

 “That doesn’t answer me shit, Eren.”

 “I don’t have a reason to like someone, do I?” At the impassive look on the older man’s face, Eren elaborated, “what I mean is, I don’t have a reason, you can’t control it when you fall for someone. Because, honestly, you’re not the hero I kind of envisioned the first time I saw you after you and Erwin rescued me from that place. You’re crude, a clean freak -no offense-, and your shitty jokes are, well, shit.”

 Levi slapped the back of Eren’s head, looking mildly offended, “Oi, brat! That’s not how you woo someone. Do I need to teach you that, too? Even Erwin did better with that giant bloodhound when he proposed.”

 “And that’s exactly what I’m trying to say!” Eren threw his hands up, a bit exasperated, “I got to know you, the real you, with your flaws and all, and I still like you. You want a reason? Well, I find you attractive. And you make me feel safe. And you make some killer eggs in the morning, frankly, I’m gonna miss my breakfast.”

 It was Levi’s turn to blush at Eren’s confession, and that was laughable, a grown man like him shouldn’t get all blushy because of a few compliments from a brat. 

 “Levi, if you let me, I-.”

 “No. The answer is no,” Levi cut him off, but upon realizing his harshness and Eren’s trembling lower lip, he added, “Not yet. Look, you’re young, and you’re starting your life. You have all the opportunities in the world to find what makes you happy, and I won’t stop you. We met under difficult circumstances, and we haven’t known each other outside of them. So, this is what I can offer you. You’re going to do your thing, and I’ll do mine. Explore a little, make friends, have dates, you know, all that crap. And if in two years you still feel the same, then I’d be happy to give it a try.”

 Eren’s pensive face betrayed the disappointment that he felt, but Levi’s offer didn’t sound too bad. If that gave him a chance to be close to the older man, he’d happily take it. “And what about you? What if you find someone else during that time?”

 “We’ll cross that bridge when the time comes.”

 “That doesn’t answer me shit,” Eren mimicked Levi’s tone, earning himself another slap in the back of the head. “Fine. I get it.”

 “I mean it, Eren. Go outside and live your life at its fullest. I’ll be here when you’re ready,” Levi’s soft voice made Eren smile, and without a second thought, he leaned his head against Levi’s shoulder. Although the height difference made the position a bit difficult, Eren didn’t mind in the slightest. slightest. 

 “Levi?”

 “Hmm?”

  “Can I kiss you?”

 “Don’t be greedy, kid.”

 “Jeez, a hug at least?”

 “Yeah, that doesn’t sound bad.”

 -x-x-x-

 The house was completely submerged in shadows when Levi finally arrived. That wasn’t a good sign, but the silence was somehow reassuring. In the past, when something triggered Eren’s fears, he could hear his voice screaming to the front door, or the loud barking of Titan. from the inside. He took off his shoes and jacket and was about to look out for Eren, but Titan came running to greet him, stopping in front of him as he had learned not to try to jump and tackle him down as a greeting. At least, Levi knew he wouldn’t be tackled down by a giant beast every night after work.

 He petted the dog’s head and followed him to the living room, and there, in the middle of the room, found Eren in the same position that he had been for the past two hours. He came up to Eren, sat by his side, taking in the way the moon and the streetlights illuminated his face. Eren seemed lost in thought, but his hand found Levi’s, and cradled it against his chest, quickly forgetting Levi’s shirt. When the dog returned to his owner’s side and Eren didn’t seem to react, Levi knew he needed to be careful while approaching the boy.

 With soft movements, he approached Eren and kneeled in front of him. “Eren, baby, can you hear me?” 

 “How do you feel, bright eyes?” Levi asked, using his favorite pet name for Eren. Eren shrugged, and Levi moved his gaze down their intertwined hands, noticing the harsh lines on Eren’s arms, caused after scratching himself repeatedly. “Do you want me to call Petra?” Eren shook his head, “then, are you hungry? I can fix you a quick dinner,” another negative, and Levi was running out of options. “Can I at least hug you?” At that, Eren gave an affirmative nod, and Levi released a sigh of relief. 

 While the dog put his head over his paws, observing his owners  Levi's arms circled Eren’s shoulders, and his boyfriend leaned against his torso, resting his head on Levi’s chest, and the older man peppered kisses over his forehead. Some minutes passed, and the tension abandoned Eren’s body, feeling protected between Levi’s arms.

 “I came home and took a nap, and when I woke up, I was disoriented,” Eren explained, “for a moment, I feel like all these years had been a dream, and that I was back in that place. I was terrified to even imagine that everything I have was gone, that you were gone.” 

 “I’m sorry I wasn’t here, baby.”

 “No, no, don’t apologize. You’ve done more than enough for me already. The rest is all on myself.” Levi didn’t argue with Eren, and he felt proud of him, of all that he had overcome, and the way he had matured over the years.

 Holding the younger man’s chin with utter care, Levi lifted Eren’s face, looking at him with adoration. Then, he leaned down, kissing his boyfriend’s lips, a gesture that Eren returned in an instant. “Fuck, Eren. You have no idea how much I love you,” hearing those words, always filled Eren with warmth.

 “Not as much as I love you, babe,” Eren responded, leaning in for another kiss, that he interrupted with a yawn.

 Levi snickered, and shook his head, fondly, “Heh, such a cute shit you are.”

[the-cookie-of-doom]

👉🏼😳👈🏼 as a fae Mitch has abilities to do as he pleases with his body such as changing his gender or allowing himself or some other to carry a child. The fae use firstborns as offerings in rituals and stiles seeks out the fae dwelling in Poland forests in help of either his or his fathers failing health. I’m thinking something with the brain 👀 but seeing Mitch makes Stiles careless bc hello? handsome forest man with magic? But he’s naive bc now he’s chained to Mitch by sealing the deal 🥺

What a tasty thought... On the one hand, like I said, Mitch choosing to have the baby would eliminate the problem of Stiles deciding last minute not to fulfill his end of the bargain (a problem many fae have faced in the past). But then, Mitch could fuck off back home once he gets what he wants, and we don’t want that! Although. Split custody? Visitation rights? Stiles is willing to give up his firstborn but not without conditions? Pining, as Stiles only gets to see his child, and Mitch, every so often, and slowly they begin to fall in love, and eventually make a real family for themselves?

On the other hand, Mitch making Stiles do it would probably result in Mitch sticking around, mother-henning Stiles half to death, because his is his progeny too, now. He’s going to make sure Stiles is healthy and doing everything he needs to do to have a healthy baby. And that will require Mitch to learn How Human’s Work. When Stiles inevitably gets morning sickness, Mitch probably comes up with all kinds of “home remedies” that he’s found supposedly work and makes Stiles try them, and half of them just make it worse. Mitch had no idea human pregnancy was so complicated. But also, having a hybrid child also makes it even more complicated. He understands now why fae usually don’t participate in making the baby, it’s a nerve-wracking nightmare. Stiles thinks it’s funny that Mitch the Aloof Fae gets so worked up about a variety of small or unlikely things; it almost makes up for the morning sickness and weird cravings. 

Speaking of weird cravings, Stiles probably gets cravings for food that doesn’t even exist in the human realm. Maybe that’s the first time Mitch takes Stiles with him to the fae realm? Stiles is leery about eating anything (he knows how that works, okay, and he didn’t make a deal to save his dad’s life just to get trapped here), and Mitch dances around promising that Stiles will still be allowed to leave, but in a way that makes Stiles think he most certainly won’t, and so they compromise. Stiles goes back home and Mitch brings him a variety of fae food; can’t get trapped in the fae realm if he’s not there to begin with! 

How old is Stiles during all this? I’m imagining somewhere in the early 20s, around 23 probably. Maybe Stiles took a year off college to help his dad, and then with this, his break has extended, so he’s back home living with dad. Because of this Mitch isn’t around all the time. He’ll just randomly pop in to check on Stiles and the baby. Sometimes a few days will pass between visits, sometimes a few weeks, since time works differently in the fae realm. When Mitch isn’t around, maybe he sends little sprites to give Stiles gifts on his behalf. John may discover a few and be like ??? because you just know fae can’t give normal gifts. 

Oh, and later into the pregnancy Stiles starts having awful moodswings, and Mitch does something to set him off. After Mitch leaves Stiles lines the house with everything iron he can find to keep Mitch out. “Stiles, please.” “No, you’re a monster and I hate you!” 

This is ridiculous and I love it

God I am SO sorry how long it’s taking me to answer, I’m doing it in between raiding lol, but I’m done now! Feels like I’ve been working at this for hours...

Anyway, I think I let this get away from me and tread too far into the land of Ridiculous, which is just not me, no matter how hard I try. So lets regroup! 

I think Stiles could easily barter with Mitch for his dad’s life. Maybe he gets sick, like you said, or I think it would be more realistic if he got some kind of bad injury on the job, with a slim chance of full recovery. Maybe a stray bullet paralyzed him? Stiles keeps encouraging him in physical therapy but the frustration and helplessness makes John lash out, which drives Stiles to seek out Mitch; he hates to see his dad suffer, and would do anything to make it all go away. And Mitch has the ability to bend reality to a certain degree... for a price. 

It could also go the way of young Stiles making a deal with Mitch to save his mom. Ofc nothing would happen then, but Mitch could occasionally show up like Stiles’ very own guardian angel; he has to protect his investment, after all. Stiles probably doesn’t know he’s there half the time, if at all. But later down the line Mitch could come to collect... I might put this idea on the backburner...

It’s customary to take the firstborn child, and Stiles is alright with that. But it throws Mitch off when he assumes Mitch will be participating. Stiles says that’s the only way Mitch will be getting a baby out of him, since there’s definitely no girls in his future... he later comes to regret his word choice, as Mitch apparently decides to take him literally.  

Neither of them know what to expect from a magical hybrid baby, so Mitch comes around to check in here and there, leave Stiles little gifts and items that help fae during pregnancy. Meanwhile Stiles’ dad is on his way to making a full recovery, and Stiles is trying to hide his pregnancy. In the beginning it’s easy, and then even a few months in he blames the extra weight around the middle on stress eating. 

Mitch likes to hang around unseen sometimes, shamelessly spying on Stiles. One day late into their arrangement, he overhears another in a long string of bad excuses that John doesn’t believe. When Stiles comes upstairs Mitch reveals himself to say that he can’t keep hiding this forever. Stiles really doesn’t want to address the hole situation with his dad, but he knows he’ll have to. 

Maybe Mitch offers to take Stiles with him to the fae realm for the remainder of the pregnancy... and it’s possibly a selfish offer. He can’t stay in the human realm all the time, but Stiles has grown on him, and he wants to spend more time together. What better way to do it than to benevolently confine Stiles to his realm? Mitch says he’ll let Stiles out again, of course.... but Stiles knows that’s only so long as he doesn’t eat or drink anything, and he can’t survive without doing either. 

Stiles reads the entire situation wrong, thinking Mitch wants to kidnap him. it takes him a hot minute to realize that no, Mitch is pining for him. He doesn’t want to disappear once the baby is born, he wants to keep Stiles. 

After that, Stiles starts scheming for a way they can be together once all is said and done...

[schoolfullofmorons]

title: cigars and constellations warnings: implied child abuse / family issues, implied rape / sexual assault, mental illness, intrusive thoughts, toxic asylums and therapists description: Gary remembered his first taste of cigar. He remembered sitting by his window on the second floor, his legs dangling.

His father's office was always filled with dust.

Gary wasn't sure why, as the rest of the house was always meticulously cleansed as if his father would drop over dead if it weren't. To Gary, it was almost fascinating, how the sunlight streaming through the window would catch on the individual particles of dirt and absolutely shine. Gary's attention would get drawn to this without fail, every time he would sneak in to steal one of his father's cigars.

Smith Sr. kept them in a wooden box. It was the only thing in the room that Gary particularly cared for, as it had a small dragon carved into the side, etched by skilled hands long ago. As his fingers drew over the carvings, he knew they were old, and it was only further proven by the creak of the box anytime he lifted it up to grab the bitter-smelling cigars from within. They smelled like wood chips.

Gary remembered his first taste of cigar. He remembered sitting by his window on the second floor, his legs dangling. He could hear his mother's scream from the other room, viciously torn from her, glass breaking as Smith Sr. demanded to know who the fuck was inside his office, and who the fuck took his lighter. He remembered putting it to his mouth, the smokey tasting flavor singeing his tongue as he lit it up with the bright red lighter.

The first inhale of smoke choked him, but it felt good, so he did it again. He could remember leaning further out the window as sobs filled the house behind him and thinking, if only I could jump, right now, then I could meet God.

The same thought followed him throughout his life until he was utterly obsessed with high places. He would climb out the attic window onto the roof at night and watch the stars, memorizing the constellations. He knew all of them. There was Auriga, and Delphinus, and Draco. He counted all of the consellations night after night until he could tell you a map of the entire sky. He'd think how nice it must be to fly.

Other times Gary would climb a tree with Petey, or with Mandy and Zoe before they abandoned him, and would urge them up with a soft c'mon, c'mon, please guys, we have to get to the top. It's going to be so beautiful. And Pete's eyes would shine or Mandy would giggle and follow him up or Zoe would laugh, loud and long, and tell him slow down psycho-boy, I'm coming if you'll give me a second.

Everything hurt when they left, dropping out of his life like flies and suddenly he only saw Zoe out at clubs with older guys where she refused to acknowledge he existed and Mandy would scoff at him everytime he passed her in the hallway. But he always had his constellations and his cigars, and the screaming that accompanied him everytime he returned home.

He nearly killed a kid in seventh grade one time, during a boxing match. It wasn't my fault, Gary pleaded with his mother and his therapist and his coach, trying, desperately trying, to get them to see. He had only hit a little too hard, had only been a little too much, just as he always had been. But the kid was still laying there with blood pouring from his eyes and when Gary got back to school the next week he heard the news with a sickening jolt that he'd be transferring.

Gary wasn't right in the head, and he knew it. He could feel it under his skin time and time again every time he picked up his father's rifle to shoot at the neighbourhood mailbox, or when he accidentely bashed Chad's dog's head in (I didn't mean to! he screamed, the dog was trying to hurt me! it was a mistake!) He desperately pleaded for someone to give him some sembelance of a chance but once the system gave up on him it wasn't long before Gary gave up on the system. Why bother pleading with something who will think you're wrong, no matter what you do?

Jimmy barging into his life was like the first puff of that cigar against his lips and while his chest hurt and it was hard to breathe, he liked it so much that he could only toss back his head and laugh. Jimmy was suddenly a promise, something sacred that Gary could latch on to. Jimmy listened to his plans with more enthusiam than Pete had given him for months, and Jimmy didn't seem to care when Gary got to be too much.

It wasn't until the thoughts came back that it all fell apart and he was heaving dry sobs in his bedroom as he pressed himself fearfully against a corner, anger and panic making his fists shake. They were hanging out together, Pete had let Jimmy wrap his arm around him and they didn't seem to care he wasn't there and he was useless and they didn't love him and he was going to be abandoned again and again and again and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

Solution? Cut them out. It was easy (no it wasn't), it didn't bother him (yes it did). He didn't really need Pete anyway, didn't need Jimmy either, only needed himself. If anything he had taught himself through packs of cigars that whenever you were alone you were truely safe, safe from anything that could ever touch you.

If this was safety, then why did it feel so awful?

He thought about God as he stood on the top of the roof, shrieking pain at Jimmy like a maniac. And he knew he looked stupid and he knew he sounded crazy but he had to let go of this bullshit and suddenly he was spouting if I hadn't of done this, you'd do it to me first and everything was out there except Jimmy didn't give a fuck because he was Jimmy and he just wanted Gary to stop but Gary was an explosion and he hadn't had his medicine in weeks and when he spouted out the insult he knew he had went too far as Jimmy's fist collided with his mouth and suddenly all he knew was pain.

If demons were actually angels then Gary wondered what he was as he plummetted into Crabblesnitch's office. He fluttered open his eyes, his breathing raspy and saw dust particles floating around Jimmy's face. He had fucked up but at least the particles still looked pretty around him, just like they had been in his father's office all those years ago.

He got locked up after that because of course he would, it was only logical. Visitation came and went without anyone showing up and Gary could feel himself aching as he realized he had successfully chased away anyone who had ever wanted him, who had ever cared about him. He broke one night in his cell and curled into his bed, silently crying, pain blooming in his chest as he realized he was only a little boy pretending to be a man, not knowing what the word even meant yet.

Therapy was rough when you were known as the boy who nearly killed a person. He could feel all his therapists judging him before he walked into a room and it felt so awful and intrusive and before he knew it he'd snap at them (leave me the fuck alone, you don't fucking care, do you think my father wants to waste money on your pathetic shit? You can't even do your fucking job right). He made three therapists quit by sheer violence and screaming. Every time he did so orderlies would storm his room and slam him down to the ground and he'd fight and fight but then the needle would be at his neck and they'd strap him down to the table and suddenly pain would blossom all over as everything went dark and all he could hear was his mother's scream as he thought about the shattering glass and his father's angry demands.

Nine months in and Gary was just tired, he was tired and he didn't know what to do. No one had come to visit him and fuck he was so lonely and he wondered if it was his fate to die here when they switched his therapists and that's when he met Dr. Kendrick, who didn't look at him like he was a lost little boy but instead smiled warmly at him and gently rubbed his shoulders. The touch felt good and fuck if he didn't want just one hug or one good job so he complied to the nice doctor. Even Gary Smith had to rest at some point.

He didn't expect it to go so wrong and he didn't expect the doctor to put the white cloth to his mouth and he didn't expect to choke on the intensity of the chemicals and he didn't expect the soft voice going relax, relax, you're just pent up baby boy and suddenly he was so fucking scared and he needed out he needed to get out he was sobbing and he couldn't die here not like this.

Months later he was able to find a knife on the doctor's table and he leapt at the chance, holding it close to him and screaming let me go or I'll fucking kill you, do you think I have anything to lose? I don't have any fucking family I don't have any friends, I have nothing, so you better release me right fucking now or I'll slit your fucking throat open, and the doctor, not stupid in the slightest, filed for Gary to get out on good behavior.

Integration back to Bullworth was just as shitty as he thought it'd be and every little scream or movement that was too sharp would have Gary flinching and going quiet. Everyone seemed to be waiting on him to do something but he didn't know what to do anymore and he didn't know what to believe. He missed the taste of cigars and the sight of the contellations in the stars above him.

He wanted to apologize to them when he saw them in the hallway but he didn't know how. He knew they were looking at him and thinking why is he so quiet now? What's wrong with him? but he didn't know what to do or say until one day he bumped into Petey and nearly fell apart as he whispered you never came, you never came to see me. Pete fixed him with a look of pity and Gary could feel his eyes lingering on his collarbone - I didn't want to, not after what you had become. And Gary was left thinking about that for the better part of a week.

He hated himself but he was suddenly sure he had to make it up to Peter Kowalski if not anyone else, and suddenly he was back - fake it till you make it, he thought as he laughed and poked and prodded but Petey seemed to see right through his act. It wasn't until Gary had curled against him in the living room that he broke and whispered gentle sorry's in a soft tone under his breath, promising that he'd try so hard to get better, that he just needed time and that everything was suddenly terrifying.

Pete said he understood but how could he, Gary wondered. Gary spent a lot of time picking at his skin after hours until one day Petey brought Jimmy along and, taking Gary gently by the arm, led him into the car where they took him to see a new doctor and got him set up with new medication.

They worked, for a while, and everything seemed relieving. Gary could finally press against Petey in the halls again and Jimmy had taken to gently patting his shoulder or holding onto his wrist as if guiding a small child. It felt nice to be herded like this. Suddenly Gary realized how lucky he was, to be let back in.

[essekknits]

University FMA AU

Shoutout to @liquidstar , this monstrosity started because of your post about how Furey must have a podcast in any modern AU. I thank you so much.

Hohenheim is a famous chemistry professor who always lectures all around the world, so he’s never around. Trisha is a stay-at-home mum. Winry’s parents joined some program of doctors who fly around the world, to treat people in third world countries.

Trisha dies, as she does, in an outbreak of some sort. Winry’s parents die from some tropical disease around the same time. Since Hohenheim isn’t around and Trisha is dead, Ed and Al are put in a foster home. They get lucky, and their foster parents are a delightfully weird couple, a big, bulky man and a woman who looks so thin and small in comparison but in truth is quite well built. She’s also pretty ill.

Izumi and Sig love them as their own, and treat them well. Sig is gentle and quiet, supporting them silently and mostly showing his love and care with physical gestures, like rubbing their heads or hugging them. Izumi is tougher, sharp witted and tongued, but when they need her, she would always be there for them with a gentle word of advice, or just an understanding hug. She can never have biological children after going through a stillbirth that almost killed her.

Anyway, she homeschools Ed and Al, and because they’re quick learners and she’s a great teacher, they finish all their education very early. Winry is also homeschooled, as the small village they’re from doesn’t have much of a school, and Pinako couldn’t part with the only family she had left. So Winry, also an extremely fast learner, finishes her education at around the same speed, while also learning from her grandma who is a prosthetist, cause she fell in love with the professions she grew up around.

While Ed and Al were with Izumi, Ed got injured in his left leg. It got severely infected, and had to be cut off. While Al appeared to handle the loss of their mother as well as you can expect a child, the time Ed spent hospitalised and practically on the brink of death due to sepsis, on top of the not-so-resolved issues of his mother’s death, was a huge hit on his mental health. He spent long periods of time dissociating, even after Ed got better and wasn’t in danger. He got the therapy he needed, and all the support of his loving families, and is doing much better now. Ed got a prosthetic leg fitted for him by Pinako and Winry.

Ed and Al are still great friends with Winry, even though they don’t meet as much because they live pretty far from each other. They talk a lot on the phone, and also visit each other sometimes.

They take whatever exams they need to take to qualify as “I finished my high school education”, and apply to the same university. Ed and Al are going to study chamistry cause fuck their old man but they’re good at it, and Izumi taught them a bunch cause she studied it herself and loves the subject. Winry is studying to become a prosthetist, so she has a long way to go (she needs a master’s degree to actually practice).

Enter Roy. Roy is an assistant professor to professor Hawkeye. The professor is sick and old and looks kinda dead inside. Riza, his daughter, is definitely NOT studying chemistry, and seems to be fairly cold toward her father, but she hangs around the back of the class when she’s not busy. She’s a martial arts teacher, and also a competitive archer in her free time. And if you think the assistant professor doesn’t steal glances at her biceps when she’s wearing a tank top, you are sorely mistaken. They’ve been going circles around each other for years now, and everyone who knows them is just waiting for them to KISS ALREADY GOD DAMMIT STOP LOOKING AT EACH OTHER LIKE THAT OVER THE CLASS IT MAKES EVERYONE UNCOMFORTABLE.

Roy’s best friend Maes is doing his post doctorate in law. He married one of his old classmates, who is now a lawyer. He’s notorious for gushing over his family with anyone who would listen to him. Alex Louis Armstrong is an art student, and his older sister Olivier constantly calls him a wuss and a disgrace to the family because he’s been studying for years and not taking enough courses for her taste every year (she herself studies at a breakneck speed, and is one of the youngest professors in her chosen field, which I don’t know yet). Falman is a history student. Havoc is still “figuring himself out” and taking a bunch of seemingly disconnected courses. Breda is studying culinary. Furey studies communication, and as a hobby he has a podcast.

Now, he didn’t exactly know what he wants to do with his podcast, so he asked a Breda and Falman, who he knew before, to help him get interesting people for his podcast and they’ll see what they can do. So Farman talks to Havoc, who’s you’re “guy who knows a guy” type of person, so he talks to Riza about it, and she decides to bring Roy and Maes in on it. Maes decides that the two literal kids Roy’s been telling him about need to get a life outside of studying, so he invites them too. Ed doesn’t want to, but Winry forces him to, and comes with. Meanwhile, Breda asked Alex Armstrong, and he dragged two younger students, Dan and Maria, who are just really intimidated by how intense he is.

So Furey is going to the place he set to meet with Farman and Breda, thinking they’ll bring like two other people or something, and is met with a member of the faculty, that intimidating lady he saw around sometimes carrying a large bow, a dude with a comically long string of family photos, a giant muscle man with a magnificent moustache, three normal looking people, and three literal teenagers, one of which has a kickass steampunk-looking prosthetic leg. And also his two friends. Difinitely NOT what he expected, but... hey, you know what? He’snot going to complain. He asked for interesting people, and it looked like that’s EXACTLY what he got.

Somewhere along the line Ling (a foreign student studying chemistry just to satisfy his rich father so he’ll get some of the inheritance), along with his girlfriend Lan Fan and his half sister Mei (who actually LIKES chemistry and won’t let her older half brother outshine her) joined (Ling and Lan Fan were tailing Ed cause Ling needs help with the material, and Mei developed a not-so-subtle crush on Al). Olivier Armstrong also participated in one or two episodes, just because Roy dared her, and she actually likes Riza. Her two assistants, a mountain of a man called Buccaneer and an neat-looking man called Miles, shared a few anecdotes too. Scar is a refugee Winry’s parents treated before they died (he did NOT kill them here), and Mei just casually starts talking to that creepy tattooed dude who’s lurking around the place. He turns out to be a pretty okay dude.

Anyway, just... shenanigans ensue. This is a wacky group of young people messing around on a podcast. Sometimes they play a roleplaying game, DnD style, and the campaign is basically the series. The characters who don’t show up as often as the core crew are just people who can’t show up to every recording session because they’re falling behind in their studies. Tucker is based on the creepy biology professor who started interrogating Ed about his prosthetic for way too long and whose daughter just hung around the campus after school and he never payed attention to her (Ed almost beat Furey up after the Nina part of the campaign cause THAT WAS NOT COOL). Maes got his character killed off on purpose pretty early on. He discussed it with Furey up ahead, since he knew he’ll be working his ass off with his research, so he couldn’t really keep coming for recording for too long. Roy, being the drama queen he is, decided to on the spot make it his character’s life mission to discover who murdered his best friend and avenge his death. Scar is an NPC, based on the actual Scar since before they knew him, and the more they got to know him the more his redemption arc continued. (Winry and Mei spearhead that one, because they’re the ones who got to know him the most).